


Chat and 'Tails

by DearestMrIcarus, epcot97, LyraMaeArcher, MalcolmReynolds



Series: MariChat May [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Marichat, Marichat May, Marichat May 2020, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 50,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearestMrIcarus/pseuds/DearestMrIcarus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/epcot97/pseuds/epcot97, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyraMaeArcher/pseuds/LyraMaeArcher, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmReynolds/pseuds/MalcolmReynolds
Summary: Epcot97, MalcomReynolds, LyraMaeArcher and DearestMrIcarus are getting the band back together for another thirty-one days of MariChat May madness.  Come along as we question our collective sanity to provide you with a full month of content including our world famous snarky author commentary.  Join us, won't you?(Updates daily starting May 1)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: MariChat May [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718179
Comments: 556
Kudos: 228





	1. Witch AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Starting the month off right, today’s story is from LyraMaeArcher, who once again is setting the bar too high for the rest of us. Good thing we can borrow Chat’s baton to get over it._
> 
> _Lyra: I have nothing to say here. GL to us and MariChat May. haha._
> 
> _MR: Marichat May? Oh dear. Somebody told me it was Murder May. *frantically goes back and starts re-writing*_

The cackle of laughter from the akuma in front of him admittedly made Chat Noir pause. Something about it made him shiver nervously, cat ears pressing against his head. In all true appearances, the woman was a stereotypical witch - clawed fingers, dark flowing robes with a pointed black hat sitting on straggly hair, and a crooked nose complete with an oversized hairy nose. To make matters worse, she carried a straw broom and growled at the people of Paris in an off-key lilting voice. 

Her dark beady eyes glinted at him in a dangerously ominous fashion - setting alarm bells screaming in his head as green lightning shot from her crooked wand. This one was on a definite mission. A mission that seemed determined to deal with a boy in a black cat suit. 

Dodging and twisting with practiced ease, Chat hoped that Ladybug would arrive soon. His money was on the broom as the akuma location, but he needed to wait for her to arrive and do her miraculous thing. 

His eyes kept drifting off the villain, even as he rattled off puns about witches, gymnastic agility keeping him from getting hit with her projectiles. 

Finally, a flash of red and the zip of a familiar yo-yo made him grin, catapulting himself onto the rooftops to convene with this partner and give his report. 

"Hey Kitty. What do we have today?" 

"I think you mean _witch_ do we have today?" he purred, taking pride in the instant eye roll and quiet groan from her. God, he loved that response. 

"I think it is in the broom." She nodded at this revelation, yo-yo spinning in preparation. 

"Ok, Kitty. Do your thing." With a smirk and a nod, he jumped from the roof to draw the attention to himself so Ladybug could sneak in from the back unexpectedly. 

The witch's eyes narrowed as she saw him, a slow grin splitting her dark stained lips to reveal horribly crooked teeth. 

"Here, kitty, kitty." The cackle rang out again, setting him on edge again. They needed to deal with this akuma soon. 

As he baited the witch's attention with wit and banter, he realized with growing concern that she actually wanted to pay attention to him. She had no concern for Ladybug, her eyes fixated on him only. 

It only took a single stumble for the akuma to get her wish - a black cat paused long enough to be hit with a magical green lightning bolt. Chat had been hit by numerous projectiles in his stint as a superhero: dark arrows, floating kisses, laser beams, pigeons… once he found himself completely covered in splattered eggs. But this time felt different, the electricity that rippled through him felt incredibly similar to that of his transformation. So much, in fact, he glanced down to see if he had reverted back to his civilian self. 

No. No jeans and t-shirt. Instead, he found himself staring at fur. Black fur. On his rapidly shrinking body. Shifting himself to all fours, Chat discovered that his gloves no longer covered his hands, replaced by soft looking paws. 

Quickly, his eyes darted to the akuma, her foul grin seeming to grow farther away as his shape shrunk from that of a teen to a kitten. Everything seemed exaggeratedly oversized. 

Behind the women stood Ladybug, her brilliant blue eyes staring at him in complete shock, the yo-yo in her grasp slowing down as she took the sight of him in. 

The witch turned quickly, wand extended and spell released before Ladybug even had time to respond. Launching from where he had hunched, Chat threw himself at the witch. His yell of Ladybug's name came out as nothing more than a sad little mewl, squeaking more than his voice ever has before. His tiny claws did nothing to stop the attack, landing on the woman's arm. 

It was too late - the green electricity jolting Ladybug in surprise. She bowled over, grasping as her stomach. The cackle from the witch started again, pulling Chat off her shirt sleeve by the scruff of his neck, eliciting a hiss that in no way sounded threatening. 

"Now, now, kitten. She is going to need her familiar. Go to your master." 

With a gentle flick of the wrist, Chat felt himself airborne, twisting on instinct to land on his feet in front of his lady with a sharp yowl. 

Except, she wasn't his lady. The suit and mask vanished, replaced by a young woman standing in her place that he knew very well. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

\-----

Her body sizzled with energy - the feeling familiar as it rippled over her skin. A quick startled glance down made her gasp. Her suit was gone, leaving her identity bare for anyone to see. Hiding her face with her hands, Marinette quickly curled herself around to avoid being seen without her spots. Could Hawkmoth see through his akuma? Did he see her face? 

Peeking between gaps of her fingers, she glanced up and down the street. Thankfully the people of Paris were used to the sounds of the akuma alerts and made for cover, leaving the road clear. 

The cackle of the witch akuma faded, evidence that her opponent had wandered off without attempting to claim the earrings for herself. 

“Tikki?” Marinette whispered, hoping to find her kwami and power up again. Silence greeted her. Prying her fingers from her face, frantic eyes searched for the red creature. Nothing. 

A soft, high-pitched mew brought her attention to her feet, where a small, black fuzzy kitten with brilliant green eyes sat peering up at her. A golden bell dangled from a collar around his neck. At her attention, he padded himself closer, rubbing himself against her shoe with another squeaky cry. 

“Chat?” she whispered, crouching down to the ground to gently pet the top of his head with a finger. Unsure if she should give into the smile that threatened to break as the little thing burst into soft broken mews and rubbed against her hand, she scooped him up to nuzzle him against her cheek. He let out a spluttering purr. 

This was bad. Really bad. Chat was a literal kitten and Tikki was missing. Marinette had no powers and her identity had been compromised A panicked thought filled her as the kitty against her cheek pressed closer - did Chat know? Did he know that she was Marinette? 

She needed time to put together some kind of plan. To figure out a way to get this all solved and to defeat the akuma. 

Tucking the kitten into the pocket of her arms, Marinette’s pink slippered shoes found their way through the back streets of Paris, avoiding any contact with people as she slid into the back door of the bakery apartments. 

When Chat made more tiny mews, she shushed him, taking two steps at a time and bursting into her house. With the door slammed behind her, she barrelled for her bedroom, thankful that her parents spent so much of their day in the bakery. 

Safely in the confines of pink and wooden beams, Marinette collapsed onto her chaise, gently placing Chat kitten beside her. The kitten sat still, blinking his eyes at her as she mentally panicked. 

It wasn’t long before the panic oozed out to her voice, an unedited stream of consciousness tumbling out of her mouth unbidden in typical Marinette style, forcing her to her feet to pace. 

“I don’t know what to do, kitty. Why did the akuma turn you in an actual kitten? What happened to Tikki and why can’t I transform? What was that akuma anyway? What if I can’t get my powers back and you are stuck as a cat forever?” She paused for a moment, eyes wide and staring at the small kitten who cocked his head adorably to one side before letting out a small meow. She didn’t know what to do. 

With a sigh, she let herself flop to the floor, leaning against the chaise as a pillow. Chat, for his part, simply flopped as well, paws stretching out to press against her arm. 

“Tikki would know what to do,” she whispered. The echo of Tikki’s voice rattled in her head, reminding her to breathe. Slow inhale, slow exhale. God, Chat must think her civilian self was a fool - not the levelheaded, quick thinking superhero she pretended to be. 

"Sorry, Chat. I wish I knew what to do. If only there was some kind of instruction manual that explained this whole thing." 

A burst of brilliant pink light filled up her bedroom, the tingling of electricity making the hairs of her arms stand up and Chat to take a defensive stance with a hiss. Thumping as it hit the soft cushions of the chaise lounge, the light vanished to reveal a thick, age-worn, leather-bound book. A raised pattern adorned the front - a symbol similar in appearance to that on the earring box that sat hidden in the drawer of her vanity. 

The spine of the book made a terrific cracking sound as Marinette slowly opened the cover, curiosity driving her to see exactly what she had conjured out of thin air. Maybe this was her lucky charm? 

Nearly indecipherable black-inked script interspersed with carefully labelled diagrams of various shapes and items lined the pages. The titles at the top of the page made her a little nervous: poisons, love, necromancy, elements, curses, protection - the instructions offering steps on how to complete spells for each.

“This is like the Miraculous Grimoire,” she murmured, staring at each page as she carefully looked through each. “It’s full of spells or something.” Kitten Chat just stared at her blankly, carefully out of range from the book, lifting his head from time to time to sniff at the air. 

One page caught her eye, the title at the top making her pause. 

_Shapeshifting._

A thought tickled in the back of her head. What if - ? Her eyes slid to Chat, who casually licked his paw, looking far too comfortable as a kitten. What if -? 

The instructions in the book looked …. Doable. The ingredients seemed obtainable, the steps clearly laid out. Maybe she could transform Chat back into himself - cheesy puns, over the top foolishness, silly smirks, and all. She needed her partner. 

“I have a plan,” she announced, springing to her feet with a clap. Chat’s cat-like startle reflex making his fur stand on end as he jumped to all fours. Laughing, she ran her hand down his back to calm him. “Sorry, kitty. I’m going to try something and I’m going to need you to trust me. See this page? It’s a spell, I think, that might turn you back into… well… you.” 

He let out a strange chirping sound, before pressing his head into her hand and purring. She decided that was a sign to go for it. 

It took time to gather ingredients - rummaging through all the cupboards and drawers in the house, and even a quick trip to the market to find everything on the list. Dragging the largest pot she could find out of her mother’s collection, Marinette plopped it onto the stove with a shockingly loud clang. 

With steel determination, she began to follow the instructions carefully, adding pinches of this, and pinches of that to the pot and stirring carefully. 

She tried not to think about what exactly she was doing. Tried not to panic over the idea that she was somehow working on making a magic potion to turn her best friend and partner back into a human instead of a cat. Tried not to think about what might happen if she failed.

It took time to complete the task, and then more time to get it to a rolling boil. 

The putrid stench nearly made her gag, causing her to pinch her nose as she warily approached the pot that boiled noisily on the stovetop. Green bubbles popped at the surface - everything that the world stereotypically thought of when they thought of a witch’s brew. If she wasn’t holding her nose for dear life, she’d be wrinkling it with disapproval. 

A quick double check at the book on the table behind her confirmed that she’d followed all the steps in the right order. All the right ingredients. Been boiling it for the right amount of time. She eyed it with trepidation, holding her breath to lean in again. It seemed as good as it was likely to get. 

Scooping the liquid into a clear glass, she quickly set it on the counter to cool. A soft mewling drew her attention to the small black cat coiled on the couch, peering at her with what felt like concern. 

“I know,” she muttered, afraid of what came next. 

Chat lazily stretched before hopping off the seat to rub on her leg with a loud purr. Her little friend always knew how to calm her nerves. In thanks, she gave a quick scratch to his head before turning her attention to the book. 

_Pour liquid onto the object you wish to change form. Focus your mind on the form you wish it to be_. _When ready, concentrate energy to object and release._

Chat hopped up the tall stools, the small set of green eyes peeking over the table edge as he sat there to watch. 

Marinette felt sick. If this went wrong …. 

Her fists clenched as determination flooded her again. No. She could do this. But first, a test. Grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit left on the counter, she placed it in front of her. 

“You’d think they’d have more detailed instructions on how MUCH of this to use,” she muttered, picking up the still hot glass. Slowly, she poured a small portion of the ooze onto the apple, watching in dismay as it slid over the surface of the fruit with a nasty hissing sound. Kitty Chat’s ears folded backwards at the sound. 

“Ok, I can do this.” 

Closing her eyes, she imagined the apple changing into a pie. Hot. Steaming. With Crinkled edges and a lattice pattern. She could practically smell the sweetness of the filling. With that in her mind, she opened her eyes, stared at the slime coated apple and pushed that thought towards it. 

For a moment, nothing happened and she wavered. Had she failed somehow with her potion? With her vision? And then….. An explosion of warm fruit and pastry splattered all over the counter, leaving a sticky mess dripping onto the pink tiled floor. 

Marinette sat for a bit, staring blankly at the destruction feeling numb and sick and panicked all at the same time. The stirrings of a full-scale panic attack lay just under the surface, her breathing getting erratic as she realized exactly how dangerous this spell could be. 

“No. No, I can’t do this kitty. I can’t get you back to your human form. And then you’ll be stuck as a cat forever, and I’ll never see Tikki again, and that akuma will run wild and do weird things to people, and Hawkmoth will win somehow, and it will be all my fault. I can’t do this.” 

\-------

Being a cat was both wonderful and terrible at all the same time. The temptation to curl up and sleep combined with the nearly overwhelming urge to give into the wild side of himself was intriguing - the curtains on the walls of Marinette’s living room practically screaming for him to climb them. 

He couldn’t wait to be back to his normal self again. If one could call a cat suit completely with ears and a domino mask normal. 

The puddle of gooey apple bits definitely made for an interesting development in what felt like an already extraordinary challenge. Admittedly, being turned into a pile of cat pieces didn’t feel all that appealing. 

One look at Marinette’s face told him everything he needed to know, seeing her eyes glaze over and her short gasps for air as she went a terrifying shade of white. Arms flailing, she jumped to her feet and words came tumbling out - ranting and panicked words of failure. 

It had been hard at first to fully reconcile the masked face of his partner with the sweet face of Marinette, but watching her determination through this whole experience left him more in love than ever. He had always felt that his friendship with Marinette was something more - that they always were drawn to each other, and now he knew why. 

But this, the nearly hysterical, wild-eyed version of herself was new. Ladybug had doubted herself plenty of times. Marinette had a habit of overthinking things. But seeing them merged together made his heart warm a little. 

Jumping from the tall chair with surprising grace, he padded his way over to where she flopped on the couch, still mumbling to herself about failure. A quick jump onto the furniture, he pressed himself against her leg for a moment before deciding to scale her arm. His cheek against hers. He just needed to get her to calm down long enough to think rationally. She startled a little when he put his paw on her face. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, the sounds coming out more like strangling squeaks than the words he really wanted to say. “You can do this. I believe in you.” He blinked. The long kind of blinks that cats give to show they love you. When his eyes opened again, she had calmed down somewhat, staring at him with a soft expression. 

“Sorry kitty,” she whispered back, pressing her cheek against him and rubbing. He couldn’t help the purr that spluttered awkwardly in his chest. He loved her. 

“Ok, let’s try again.” 

He found himself plopped gently onto the cushions before she headed to the kitchen to clean up the disaster. 

Looking around the room, he eyed the window beside the couch. Something about it felt… off. It didn’t take much to jump to the sill and look outside. Cars and people bustled on the street below - life as usual returning for the people of Paris. Was the akuma still out there somewhere? 

Above him dangled the hook for the blinds. His paw twitched with an agonizing need. A quick glance at Marinette showed her still scraping apple goo off the counter, attention far from him at this moment. The paw twitched again. 

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Playing with things in a friend’s house was all sorts of breaches of social etiquette. 

The paw moved on its own, stretching slowly over his head to gently bat the circle. It made the most delightful movement, swaying back and forth. He hit it again. And again. Suddenly, it felt like every muscle of his being burst to life all at once, sending him flying off the sill and in full speed mode around the house. Up the stairs. Down the stairs. Over the top of the couch and skidding over the wooden slats of the entry floor. The soft jingle of the bell at his throat sounded heavenly as he ran, making him want to keep hearing it. His claws sank happily into the curtains, propelling him to the top in a heartbeat, only to launch himself from the incredible height with excitement. 

Flying felt amazing, the air ruffling his fur as he twisted easily before landing on his feet on the couch and racing back up the stairs to Marinette’s room. Tumbling all over the floor, he pounced hard on a stuffed Ladybug doll, biting its pigtail and throwing it into the air before running back to the kitchen. 

It felt amazing to be alive. 

Until he looked at Marinette, bent over the kitchen floor with a wet cloth, staring at him with shock. 

Oh. 

He stopped running, bowing his head in shame, with his ears tucked back. 

“Sorry,” came out as an annoying little squeak. 

Marinette’s soft chuckle gave him hope. But for now, even as his heart beat tried to return to normal, he was going to be good. Sit on the couch and watch her until she was ready. At first, he did just that. But soon, energy reserves depleted, he found it impossible to keep his eyes open, drooping over and over until finally, he just gave in and fell asleep on the softness of the Dupain-Cheng’s living room couch. 

\-----

The kitchen finally apple free, Marinette looked over at Chat, sprawled on his back with limb askew in all directions. His unexpected and enthusiastic kitten outburst of energy wore him out and she couldn’t help but smile. At least he was a cute kitten. And without the puns, he might be fun to keep around. 

Another apple pulled from the fruit collection, this time set inside a bowl for protection. Add green concoction. Visualize a pie. Push that energy out. Wait patiently. The apple in the bowl shimmered, flickering for the briefest of moments before stretching out into an awkwardly shaped apple pie. 

Another apple. Another pie. 

Her confidence finally settled into place, determination filling her. She could do this. 

Scooping up Chat with both hands, she placed him on her lap as he peered up at her with sleepy eyes, blinking himself awake. 

“I’m ready, Kitty. Are you?” 

He let out a small mew before a big yawn, jumping from her lap onto the counter where he sat, tail curled around his feet. He looked so tiny and adorable sitting there, trusting her completely. 

A deep breath in, she grabbed what remained of the magic potion, poised to dump out. 

“Here we go.” 

He shivered as the slime dropped onto his fur, the uncomfortable sound of hissing making her wince. His eyes stayed on her, staring at her as if to give her the reassurance she needed to keep going. The cup empty and the little cat coated in a layer of green goop, she closed her eyes. 

The image of Chat Noir, HER Chat Noir, cocky grin, laughing eyes, chaotic mop of hair, and black suit filled her mind. This was what he should look like. Firmly planted in her vision, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and pushed the image forward. Chat blinked, another shiver wracking through his tiny frame before he shimmered and flickered. Marinette held her breath, trying to hold onto that mental picture of her partner as the spell took control. 

\---

It felt different than whatever the witch had done. Instead of a burst of tingling energy, this felt more like ooze combined with being flipped from the inside out. His skin felt like it was being pulled in a thousand directions, body twisting into a shape that it never should have been. It didn’t hurt. He just felt … wrong…. as if he was waiting for himself to be put back together. 

And then, suddenly, he was. 

Sitting awkwardly on top of the Dupain-Cheng’s kitchen counter, he blinked before looking down at himself. Human arms. Human legs. Fingers in black gloves. The only evidence of cat his superhero ears and tail belt. 

He couldn’t help but grin at Marinette as he jumped off the counter.

“You did it!” he cheered, lunging forward to crush her in a celebratory hug. She meeped in surprised. “I knew you could do it.” 

She said nothing, simply staring at him with a strange expression on her face. Was she - mad? Nervous? Upset? He couldn’t quite read what it meant. 

“Are you ok?” he asked hesitantly.

The outburst of tears and loud sobbing was completely unexpected, as was the sudden rush of her crushing herself against his chest. But his arms instinctively wrapped around her in protection, his face pressed into her hair as he murmured nonsense about everything being ok. 

Finally, she calmed down, still wrapped around him and holding him tight. 

“Sorry,” she murmured against him. “I thought I was going to blow you up.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Good as new. You did just fine, Bugaboo.” 

She stiffened in his arms, slowly detangling herself from his grasp. He felt frustrated that she kept her eyes down and stepped away, suddenly finding the kitchen needing to be cleaned again. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching for her arm. She froze, wide blue eyes turning slowly to meet his green ones. 

“You aren’t supposed to know.” It was a whisper, small and timid, but everything that he understood. The secret of her identity meant everything to her - a security blanket of sorts to protect those she loved. But it was too late now. He knew. And he would die before he gave that secret away. 

“I know. I promise I will never tell. Ever.” 

He placed a soft hand on her cheek, running his thumb over it to wipe away the dampness there. 

“Trust me.” 

She looked at him a long time, studying his face more intently than ever, seeking something. Finally, the tenseness in her body relaxed as she accepted reality. 

“Let’s get your spot back, My Lady.” 

Together, they flipped through the magic grimoire, hoping some kind of clue that would help them solve the challenge of Marinette’s missing kwami and powers. When no solutions appeared, Marinette dropped her head to the counter in dismay. 

“I need Tikki.” 

He understood that feeling. Life without Plagg would be ….. He shuddered. A nightmare of loneliness and isolation that he never wanted to live in again. 

“Ok, so we need to beat this akuma somehow, and get you your powers back.” 

The plan, when they finally put one together, seemed questionable at best. The goal was to lure the witch to a local shop that sold Ladybug merchandise, Chat would draw her attention, make her think of Ladybug instead of Chat, and then *somehow* get her to hit Marinette with Ladybug in mind. 

A quick check of the Ladyblog narrowed down the location of the akuma, still wandering through neighbourhoods in Paris, magic transforming people into various things. Escaping to the balcony through Marinette’s bedroom, they launched onto the rooftops. Marinette clung to his neck, wrapped against his back piggy-back style as he vaulted from eave to eave with familiar and strong movements. 

Dropping Marinette off in an alleyway near the Ladybug store, he made sure to reassure her, waiting for her determined look to steel her eyes and that confident smile to warm her face before he left. 

It took hardly any time to find their akuma - green bolts of electricity sizzling through the air to find their mark on various people. It felt like chaos. A quick jump from the roof brought him into the witch’s view. 

“Witch-a doin’?” he purred at her. 

She paused, cocking her head with a crooked toothy grin. 

“Well, well - it looks like our little magic girl was a successful little witch after all! What a good familiar you are for her, helping her achieve her potential.” 

A spark of green arched in his direction from the wand in her hand, forcing him to dodge. The plan seemed to be working as she followed his lead, heading through the streets towards the intended destination. Bolt after bolt headed his way, keeping him jumping and moving through the streets - inching closer to the merchandise store. He could see Marinette peeking out from the open window. 

“Didn’t like being a real kitten?” the witch cackled. 

“Are you kitten me?” he yelled back. “It was _meow_ velous.” Another green zap shot out to him. 

“Well, let’s make you a cat again.” 

“My lady prefers me being a boy, thank you. She is paw-sivitely in love with my punning skills. Can’t do that as a cat.” 

Another zap, narrowly missing Chat’s right shoulder, making him jump in response. So close to their goal. 

“Your lady needs her familiar, you know. She’s a witch now. You need to be a cat for her.”

“How exactly are you able to get my ring if I’m a cat, anyway?” 

The witch cackled. 

“Who needs your ring? Not me. I just want people to respect pagans. Who better to show people the wonder of this life than Paris’ superhero duo as a witch with her familiar?” 

A purple butterfly-shaped shadow flashed over the witch’s face, making her pause. 

“I don’t want their miraculous. I want acknowledgement!” Her voice was loud, yelling up into the sky. Chat braced himself, glancing quickly over to Marinette who simply shrugged in response. 

The witch screeched as her broom shook in her hand. Out of the end squeezed a purple butterfly, wings flapping frantically as it escaped. Bubbles covered the shape of the witch leaving a stunned woman blinking in surprise. 

On the edge of his vision, a pink flash covered Marinette, transforming her back to her familiar spotted suit. Her yo-yo was moving in an instant, launching into the sky to snap the butterfly within its folds. 

Chat sighed with relief as she sent it off into the air - white and pure and free. 

\----------

“Lucky Charm!” 

Hidden on a rooftop, Ladybug took hold of the small object that fell into her hands. A small golden bell - the perfect replica of the one around Chat’s throat. Smiling, she threw it up into the air with a yell of “Miraculous Ladybug!” The rush of ladybugs swirled around the city, the last wash of cleaning up everything left after the akuma. 

Beside her, Chat grinned. "I always knew I was a bell-ievably wonderful lucky charm."

She rolled her eyes. After all, what could she do about his sense of humour? 

"I think you were better as a kitten," she said flatly, turning away with an annoyed huff. 

"I was purr-etty cute, right?" 

Jokes aside, she knew she had to deal with the revelation of the day. Dropping her transformation and shooing Tikki into her purse, she turned back to Chat. 

"Chat, we need to talk. About… this." Waving her hands at herself, she felt her worries press in close again. The whole point of secret identities was that they were supposed to stay secret. aNd now, that was ruined. 

"I can transform, too. Then it would be fair." He opened his mouth to say the words that would change him to his civilian self, but she cut him off with a sharp "No."

She couldn't know. One identity was enough. 

"Promise me, kitty. Promise me that my name will never leave your lips. Promise me that no one will ever find out who I am because of you. Promise me that this is going to be safe." 

His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her close against him. His heartbeat thumped happily under her ear as she put her own around him. 

"I promise, Marinette. I promise with every fiber of my being that I will protect you and your identity." 

The sincerity of his words sunk into her heart, giving her peace. Because, she knew without an inkling of doubt that it was true. 

They stayed there on the rooftop, curled together until the sun vanished over the horizon and night began, because together is how they belonged.


	2. Bell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After a long week battling equal measures of modelling, difficult schoolwork and, of course, ever-present akumas, Chat decides he needs a place to rest and recharge. Too bad he picks the best bakery in Paris to do it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ep: (chortles) I had a bell with this story. (chortles again) That took all day to come up with.
> 
> MR: *rolls eyes* What a ding-a-ling 
> 
> Lyra: I think you mean ding-dong. (Wait? Is that a US kind of twinkie thing? Great. Now I want cake.)

Chat was tired. There were no two ways about it. 

If there was the remotest chance the Devil himself could've express delivered the last six days directly from Hell to mansion’s doorstep, the nasty all-night akuma battle that had ended the week convinced him of the possibility. And as he fell through the open bathroom window and landed in a crouch upon the cool granite tiles, Chat despaired of ever catching up on his sleep deficit. For despite it being Saturday, his alter-ego was scheduled from dawn to dusk, every waking moment dedicated to serving someone other than the teenager behind the mask. 

And that presumed Hawkmoth didn’t call him out once again. Which, of course, Chat was nearly certain he would do - for over the last year of his existence as a superhero, it had been rare that their nemesis had taken more than a few days off from terrorizing Paris. Tapping his claw-tipped paw against the granite, he found himself torn: for the last thing he truly wanted to be that morning was the dutiful son that was expected. But asking for a respite was something Adrien would never do, for it would let down everyone. 

Chat, on the other paw, felt far more emboldened than his alter-ego, deciding on the spot he would somehow take the day off - however he was able to accomplish that feat.

A feline ear pivoted and he sighed; telltale footfalls were approaching from the grand stairwell just outside his bedroom. He didn’t need to reach around for his baton to know it was close to six in the morning, the hard-and-fast time that he was required to be up each and every day. Chat’s masked feline eyes darted to the shower, and then down to the jacuzzi tub. Despite how tired he was, a sly smile appeared on his face as he leapt toward the shower controls and cranked them to full capacity. Stepping away as the water cascaded out of the waterfall head, steam billowing behind it, he slipped behind the stream and leaned against the tiled wall, arms crossed, and waited, tail tapping impatiently.

The gentle knock on the door to the room was followed by a soft voice. “Adrien?”

Cupping a paw around his mouth, and hoping the water would mask the slight change to his voice the transformation created, he pitched his response over the cacophony of the falling water. “I’m in the shower, Nathalie.”

“You’re up early,” she said, her voice muffled by the door.

“I didn’t sleep very well,” Chat replied. “In fact, I don’t think I’m feeling all that great.”

There was a pause. “Your day is quite busy, Adrien,” his Father’s assistant replied, though his feline hearing picked up a trace of concern in her voice. Such as it was.

“I understand,” Chat said. “I’ll muddle through somehow,” he added a bit plaintively, leaning into his model training to allow for emoting on command. “Don’t worry about breakfast. I’m not sure I could keep anything down at this point.”

The pause was longer this time, and he knew he had Nathalie almost where he wanted her. Waiting just a beat, Chat went in for the emotional kill. “I’ll be--whoa,” he said as he loudly started to retch, visualizing a human-sized hairball as he stared at the closed door. 

“Adrien? Are you all right? Do you want me to call the doctor?”

Huffing slightly, he added a note of apology to his voice. “Sorry, Nathalie. I’m…” he paused dramatically, feline ears hearing Nathalie press closer to the door. Smiling, he added a kernel of truth. “I’m just really tired, that’s all.”

The final pause told him he’d been successful in his ploy; having been granted a reprieve from the day, he waited until he heard her high heels disappear into the atelier before turning off the water and vaulting back out through the still-open bathroom window. Partially refreshed by the adrenaline of his legerdemain, he soared through the early morning sunshine with only one destination in mind. There was a particular rooftop with just the right angle where he could catch a quick catnap while absorbing every last ray of light with his dark costume; the very thought had him purring in anticipation. 

It had been a while since he’d dropped by the Bakery, actually; Chat had been a regular visitor until quite recently. He saw her at Dupont, of course, but Marinette had been… different… over the past couple of weeks or so, worrying him that something was wrong. She seemed less ebullient as of late - almost as if the weight of the world had suddenly graced her slim but solid shoulders. Certain _something_ was amiss, Chat’s best intentions had nonetheless been thwarted by Adrien’s insane schedule, preventing even the occasional nocturnal visit. The irony wasn’t lost on him that his own exhaustion from said insane schedule had created the first opportunity he’d had in a while, and he thanked the kwamis accordingly.

But first, a catnap. He’d be able to think clearer after an hour or two.

Landing on a favorite chimney flue, he paused on his perch long enough to cock a feline ear toward the Bakery below. From the sounds filtering up, it was a typically busy weekend morning; the mouth-watering smells emanating from the chimney made him regret skipping breakfast, but rest was his priority. Listening intently for a few more minutes, he determined that Marinette was not about and that no one below had heard his soft rubbery landing.

Carefully, he leapt to the balcony railing and then into the object of his desire: the petite and well-used lounge chair which, at that very moment, was in full sunshine. Without a moment’s hesitation, he curled up against the soft fabric infused with Marinette’s scent and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Chat bolted awake a moment later, landing in the middle of the rooftop patio twirling his baton into shield mode, his heart racing. Scanning the space, he allowed his feline ears to pivot into a more normal position as he tried to figure out what had startled him awake. As his heart returned to its regular rhythm, he found himself at a complete loss since nothing seemed out of place.

Returning to the chaise, he curled up once more, having nearly convinced himself it had been an artifact of his sleep-deprived fur brain. Except, just as his heavily-lidded eyes started to close for good once more, his feline hearing uncannily picked up something again.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

To his credit, he didn’t come out of the chaise in full battle mode the second time; he did, however, stalk around the space trying to determine what, exactly, he was hearing. That he was having trouble identifying it, or the location from whence it emanated, spoke volumes to his fatigue; a few fruitless minutes later, he settled back into the chaise a third time, though he kept his baton in one paw for good measure.

As he drifted off once more, thoughts of camembert filled his tired brain, likely a reminder from Plagg that he’d appreciate a little time off himself. That made Chat smile sleepily, for his mercurial kwami never really seemed to know _what_ he really wanted. Besides cheese, of course.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-dong!_

Now thoroughly annoyed and quite grumpy, Chat slid out of the chaise and used what little reserves he had left to train every feline sense on the space to try and find the source of that annoying tinny noise. Coming up empty once more, he stood in the exact center of the patio, paws-on-hips, and frowned at everything and nothing. By rights, he should have moved on to another location, but his feline curiosity was now piqued - not to mention his main desire to speak with Marinette.

Sighing again, he slipped back into the chaise and tried one last time to drop off to sleep.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

Cracking a masked eye open, he thought perhaps he was now hearing things and squeezed both masked eyes shut. The mansion was starting to become an appealing alternative.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

Turning around in the lounge, he placed his paws over his ears, trying to mute the world.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

Tail twitching wildly, he twisted around one more time and started to think of wide-open fields full of flowers--

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-dong!_

“ _Meowwwwwrrrrrr!_ ” he cried out as he burst from the lounge chair, shredding the fabric into multiple pieces. He had to find the source of that noise! 

Growling as he upended the planter on the patio, he tipped over the bonsai tree for good measure. Finding nothing underneath either, he tore at the wood of the table with his claws, reducing it to pieces in moments. Still nothing.

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

Where was the sound coming from? It was starting to drive him crazy.

Leaping to the railing, he turned and caught sight of the triangular sunshade tied above the former chaise lounge. As unlikely a hiding spot as it might be, Chat was about to go after the small sheet of fabric when the skylight scratched open, allowing the shocked face of Marinette to appear. “Chat--?”

Breathing hard, Chat managed to quell his instincts for a moment. “Purrincess,” he said through gritted teeth.

Pulling herself up through to the patio proper, her eyes widened at the destruction surrounding her. “What on earth is going on?” she asked as she turned to her kitty.

Turning back to the patio, the scene he’d created crashed through his addled brain, and calmness chased away the irrational desire to locate the sound. Masked eyes wide, he turned back to Marinette. “I’m--I’m so sorry, Marinette. I’ve been worried about you and wanted to visit but you weren’t here,” he explained in a rush, “and I am just so tired, I thought I’d catch a quick nap while I waited and then there was this noise like a bell and it kept ringing and ringing and I was going crazy--”

“Chat,” Marinette said carefully, “calm down.”

Sensing the world was spinning away from him again, Chat caught himself and took a deep breath. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he said again, hanging his head. “I’ll fix this,” he added as he looked up through his bangs. “It just unnerved me---”

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-dong!_

Instantly, Chat’s ears went up and he let out a low growl. His intense look had Marinette unconsciously take a step backward before she set her expression and deliberately moved to him. “Chat!” she commanded.

He looked up, for it was a tone he often heard from Ladybug - one that brooked no dissent. “Princess?” he said, his sleep-deprived brain a bit confused at hearing it from Marinette.

“What does it sound like?” she asked.

“A clang,” he said, masked eyes wide. “I can’t locate it - but it’s metal on metal and it’s driving me crazy!”

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_

“There it is again!” he mewled, his head frantically twisting around to search for the source before he caught the giggle from Marinette. Swinging around to face her fully, he arched a masked eyebrow at her crossly. “I’m glad one of us finds this comical,” he said icily.

“I do,” she said, the giggles bursting into full-throated laughter. “I truly do. It’s the best thing to happen to me all week.”

Marinette’s good humor softened the edge of Chat’s ire sufficiently that he felt a partial smile on his masked visage. “I aim to pawlease,” he said. “But I’m not heartened to hear your week was as bad as mine.”

_Dinga-ding! Dinga-dong!_

“What… is… that?!” Chat demanded.

“Oh Chat,” Marinette chortled. “It’s a bell,” she gasped, the tears flowing freely now. 

“A bell?”

“Yes. On...oh my God,” she giggled uncontrollably. “I think I’m more tired than I realized. The old one on the Bakery door had to be replaced; Papa did it earlier this week. It’s polished brass and loud enough for us to hear in the residence. Which means it probably resonates better than the —ooh… aahhh! Than the original.”

Despite himself, Chat found himself chuckling. As the sound issued forth again, he leaned over the balcony and watched as a happy couple exited the shop below, arms full of bags bearing the Bakery logo. The cheerful _dinga-ding!_ wafted up toward him as the door closed. 

If he’d needed any further proof of how tired he was, it was right there in black and white. Embarrassed, he turned back to his friend. “Marinette… I--”

“Need some sleep, clearly,” she interrupted as she held out a hand. “As do I. Come down from there and I’ll see what we can do.”

Chat threw a desperate glance at the destruction he’d created.

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. “It’s all fixable,” she added, not mentioning that it would likely require a little help from a certain pink-and-red kwami. Marinette held out her hand again. “Come on. I have an idea.”

Reluctantly, Chat slipped off the railing and followed Marinette down into her room. She settled him onto her larger lounge chair and tucked a blanket over him; a moment later, she returned with a pair of earmuffs he’d seen her wear a time or two at the ice rink. “This should muffle the noise enough,” she said thoughtfully, “though I’m not sure which set of ears to put them over.”

Chat took the proferred item and slid them deftly over his human ears that were hidden beneath his wild mane. Immediately the world around him felt as though it were wrapped in cotton. “I think this might work,” he said a bit too loudly.

“Close your eyes,” Marinette said, suppressing another irrational giggle; Chat looked utterly ridiculous wearing the earmuffs, especially the way those cute feline ears suddenly looked so out of place. 

There was so much he wanted to say to her, but Chat was entirely too comfortable on the couch. The last thing he said before drifting off into a deep slumber was yet another mumbled apology to his friend.

Sitting on the edge of the lounge, Marinette stroked her kitty’s hair; with her new responsibilities as Guardian, she’d pulled away from parts of her pre-Guardian life, sidelining friends and, perhaps more troubling, letting her relationship with Chat lay fallow. Ladybug counted on his dependable presence, and only now did she realize with some horror that he, too, had a civilian life that still demanded one-hundred percent. 

As his beautiful face softened with repose, she smiled to think that such a gentle soul could hold the ferocity that fought beside her night after night. Scratching a spot behind a feline ear, she heard the soft rumbles of a purr beginning and smiled wider to think that he might now, finally, be getting the rest he needed. She wasn’t surprised his empathetic tendencies had clued in on her own issues; that he had thought to come to her to offer an ear, despite his own rough shape, further endeared him to her.

Impulsively, she slid around and snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around her partner. “Thank you, kitty,” she said softly into a feline ear that flicked slightly as she spoke. “I think this is what both of us needed.”

 _Dinga-ding! Dinga-ding!_ came the bell from the door below her room.

Marinette smiled and pulled her kitty closer, and decided a short nap wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 


	3. Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You didn’t think I’d actually get through MariChat May without at least one story set in my (somewhat) popular_ Roommates _universe, did you? (If you did, you owe MR a buck.) This time out, Chat decides he wants to share a little of what it’s like to be a superhero with Marinette; leave it to our smitten kitty to make it a night she’ll remember._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _If you are not a current_ Roommates _reader, this story takes place about two months after Chat and Marinette move in together. Our dynamic duo are college graduates just starting out on their respective careers -- and yes, while Marinette is living with Chat, at this point in the timeline, Chat remains safely masked._
> 
> _MR: It only took 3 days for roommates to show up! (Something that I think you first wrote during last year’s Marichat May.) Heck, I think even I’ve written a chapter for this universe at this point!!_
> 
> _Lyra: Ahhh, back to Ep's fave duo. I always wonder how Marinette can put up with the stench of Plagg's cheese stash in her apartment…._
> 
> _Ep: I understand Marinette invested early on in that vacuum sealer gizmo from Costco..._

Late August had, for nearly four years now, announced the beginning of another year at college; a time to hustle around and ensure proper textbooks had been procured, lab materials were on hand and that semester’s living accomodations were still up to the task. In that short period of time, it had become something of a tradition, and the first August I _didn’t_ have to do any of those activities felt just a little bit off.

Just for old time’s sake, I’d swung by my former campus on my way to meet Ladybug for our patrol on a random Thursday, and had landed on the bell tower overlooking the main quad. Admittedly, it was a bit self-indulgent, especially since Ladybug would be meeting me almost exactly on the opposite side of the city; and yet, it was something I felt like I needed to do. Watching the kids and their parents as they moved furniture into the dorms, wandered toward the dining hall or otherwise slowly transitioned into student life made me a tad melancholy; I wasn’t entirely certain why.

I supposed it had everything to do with transitions, and the perceived loss of the freedom I had as a carefree college undergraduate. _That_ made me snort, and my masked eyes narrowed in humor for the responsibility of protecting Paris as Chat Noir had seriously cut into my ability to have a life, per se, outside of the mask; fortunately, I’d had an extremely understanding girlfriend, one who took my crazy schedule and superhero responsibilities in stride.

Sighing as I leapt away and started to run over the rooftops toward my rendezvous with Ladybug, I realized two months into being an “official” adult didn’t seem to have changed that appreciably. No, maybe that wasn’t entirely true; while I’d taken my pre-ordained spot at House of Gabriel, I’d done so on my own terms, slowly working to turn the company into a more modern organization with an eye on the future, not the dated designs of the past my Father favored. Hawkmoth still presented healthy challenges, too, the only true benefit of which were fairly regular visits with Ladybug.

As I landed on another rooftop and jogged along its spine, I couldn’t help but smile at the one aspect that _had_ changed. Living with Marinette was the best thing that had happened to this feline, and felt to me like it only got better each day we were together. Admittedly, keeping my true identity a secret from the girl of my dreams wasn’t my first choice, but my promise to Ladybug was an old one. Someday, I’d be able to tell Mari who was under the mask. 

Someday.

Nearing our spot, I belatedly realized Ladybug had picked the rooftop where I’d once gone down on one knee and held out a rose, pouring my heart into trying to convince her I was her one and only feline. My cheeks flamed slightly at the memory - looking back on it now, I realized just how new to love I had been at the time. I still had a special spot in my heart for my partner, but Marinette had taken up residence in full many years ago. Still, it was an odd choice for our meet-up given how we had studiously avoided the spot for years.

I landed on the wrought iron railing rimming the narrow roof and perched, sliding the baton into its spot at the small of my back. The night was young, and the moon had barely risen over the rooftops; it would be a good evening to prowl Paris. Turning, I could see one of what felt to me like a million of those billboards with me exposing some part of my body to Paris. Given it was August, the one that caught my masked visage was from our new business casual line; I was rocking an unbuttoned button-down and tastefully matching khakis. This one was the shot where I’d been made to go barefoot and, perhaps more importantly, bare chested. That last brought a grimace to my masked face and newfound solidarity with the legions of poor souls forced to endure the pain of a wax procedure.

My feline ears pivoted as they picked up the sound of Ladybug on the wind, and I smiled as I turned toward her arrival. She was on time, something that had changed over the years, too. I was well known for my notoriously early arrivals; Ladybug had generally been barely on time or late. My semi-glowing feline eyes caught her shape against the darkness, and tracked her in as she gently landed on the tile.

“Milady,” I said as I slid off the railing and took her hand into my paw. It was nearly traditional now for me to brush a kiss across her knuckles as I did my bow with a flourish. “How are you this fine evening?”

“Well, thank you Chat,” she smiled as she withdrew her gloved hand. “You?”

“Meowvelous, now that you are here. I was feline lonely.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes - something I never tired of seeing - and smiled again. “How can you say that? You get to go home to Marinette every night.”

“And you to your secret someone,” I reminded her, for she’d revealed her own love had finally appeared, too.

“True,” she smiled wider. 

I turned and held out my paws to the night. “I wish I could share this with Mari, actually,” I said with a trace of sadness. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy every moment - savor every second - I am with her, but she’s never had the chance to experience the upside of being a superhero.”

Ladybug came up beside me and put her hands on the railing. “That’s not entirely true,” she said softly after a long moment. “I do believe I granted her the Mouse Miraculous a while back.”

I started. How had I forgotten about that? Marinette had helped us out of a particularly thorny akuma that had managed to actually cleave our kwamis from their jewels; as good as Marinette had been, though, she’d made the fatal mistake of revealing her identity in front of me (as Chat), and therefore been added to the banned holders list. “So you did,” I nodded as I turned toward Ladybug. “Not exactly a full run as a hero though,” I added, a thought striking me.

Ladybug could see the wheels turning behind my masked green eyes. “Oh, no. Never in a million years.”

Taking a cue from the space we were in, I got down on my knees and pressed my paws together. “Pawleese, Milady,” I said, widening my eyes to full Doll mode. “Just for a few nights? I’ll keep her safe. I just want to have her experience the thrill of seeing Paris the way you and I do.”

“Chat--”

“I know her identity is blown, and at the first sign of trouble, I’ll get her to safety.” I paused, and added gently, “I can protect her. You know that.”

Ladybug looked at me and sighed. “It goes against my better judgement, Kitty,” she said. 

I kept the Doll eyes on her. 

Putting a gloved hand to her face, she sighed. Loudly. “One night. No more.”

I leapt to my feet and pulled Ladybug into my arms, kissing her gently on a cheek. “Thank you,” I said as I let her go. “This means a lot to me.”

Shaking her head, she sighed again. “Text me her cell phone number? I’ll set up a time to connect with her and give her the mandatory speech.”

My baton was already in my paws. “On it!”

* * *

The following morning, I’d barely landed on the rooftop of House of Gabriel when my baton buzzed. Cracking it open, I saw the surprised face of the girlfriend I’d left not ten minutes earlier. “Marinette?”

“Ladybug doesn’t waste much time,” she said with a smile, alluding to the conversation we’d had that very morning over breakfast. “I have a new friend -- well, old, I suppose, since I met Mullo some time ago.”

I smiled wider. “Then you know the drill. Keep your kwami safe, and we’ll go out for a spin tonight.”

“Chat,” she said, lowering her voice. I knew she was in a hiding spot she’d located at her office where she felt comfortable contacting her superhero boyfriend without anyone overhearing her. “It’s been quite literally _years_ since I worked with Mullo. And even then, it was for only a few hours. You’re going to need to be patient with me.”

“I figured as much, Princess,” I replied, arching a masked eyebrow. “Still, even what little I have planned for us tonight will be wonderful, I assure you.”

She smiled wider. “I imagine it will. I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“I’ll meet you at your office, if that’s okay?”

“Purrfect,” she laughed.

“Hey!” I said with mock outrage. “That’s my line!”

“I know,” she laughed again as she blew me a kiss and hung up.

* * *

By seventeen-thirty, a transformed Marinette and I sat on an arched rooftop looking toward the expanse of the Trocadero and the magnificent Eiffel Tower further on. Somehow, I had forgotten just how amazingly beautiful Marinette looked in the Multimouse costume. She was older since the last time she had donned the grey, pink and purple suit, of course, which meant she had some more visible feminine curves that hadn’t been as noticeable as a teenager. I was unable to keep my masked feline eyes from examining closely just how well the form-fitting costume accentuated her, ahem, natural assets.

Lost in a hazy daydream, it took a moment for me to comprehend that she had been talking to me.

“Chat?” Multimouse said, snapping her gloved hand in front of my face. “What’s gotten into you?”

I smiled a bit. “Sorry. I forgot how attract--I mean, how strong my feline impulses would be with a mouse so close.”

“I see,” she said, a knowing smile on her masked face. The two hair buns accentuated her masked eyes by drawing her hair up and away from her face. “That doesn’t explain the bedroom eyes you are giving me.”

The exposed portion of my face heated up and I quickly looked away, coughing into a paw to change the subject. “Anyway… I’m glad I could spend an evening like this with you.”

“As a mouse?” She chuckled. 

“Not just that,” I said, face flaming further. “I just wanted you to see Paris the way I do. When Hawkmoth isn’t trying to kill me.”

“I can’t argue with that,” she said as she slipped a gloved hand beneath my arm and hooked herself closer. “This view is extraordinary.”

I leaned my feline ear-topped mane into her head, and closed my eyes to soak up the moment. I knew this was supposed to be about me giving Marinette a chance to experience the lighter side of superherodom, but I was finding her presence to be intoxicating. Everything about my girlfriend seemed to have been accentuated by the transformation; even her scent had shifted, filling my feline olfactory with intense notes of lavender and rose petals instead of her traditional vanilla and exotic spices.

My tail curled slowly around her waist and I felt myself starting to purr. “Princess, I had a short turrrr -- I’m sorry, _tour_ of some sights planned this evening, but I am finding it hard to convince myself to move to the next spot.” I cracked open a masked eye and looked at her. “You know I’m attracted to you, of course --”

“The thought _had_ crossed my mind a time or two,” she laughed.

“--but I can’t believe how the Mouse Miraculous has enhanced that. How much more irresistible you are now--” I flushed crimson at her sly smile. “Wait. That came out wrong. I mean--”

“Chat?”

“Princess?”

“Stop talking.”

“Yes, Princess,” I smiled as I closed my eyes again, the flame of embarrassment upon my cheeks visible from space. I felt like a teenager again, stumbling my way through love instead of a twenty-something already in a committed relationship.

Marinette seemed to sense my internal struggles at that moment and pulled me a bit closer. “You really are rather cute when you get flustered,” she said softly. “And it’s been a while since I’ve managed to get you all twitterpated.”

“I’m sorry,” I laughed slightly as I leaned down to kiss her. “I guess I’m still a goofy teenager at heart, lovestruck and mooning over my princess.”

“I’ve always known that,” she replied, putting a finger to my chin. “It’s one of the things I love most about you, Kitty.”

My masked green eyes took in her masked blue ones, and I felt my purring beginning. “I _really_ could get used to dating a mouse,” I said, a sly smile on my face. “Assuming I could successfully keep from chasing you around Paris.”

Multimouse smiled back, a wicked gleam to her eye. “I’d like to see you just _try_ and catch me, Kitty,” she replied.

“Oh?” I asked, masked eyes narrowing dangerously. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

“Really?” she replied, a challenging look mixing in with the wicked gleam. 

“Really--” I started smugly, interrupted only when Mouse, in a blur of motion, leapt away from me and over the edge of the building.

I watched, slack-jawed, as she spun up her jump rope and snagged a light post, then soared higher into the air on her way toward the Eiffel Tower. Clearly she had more muscle memory than I realized she would retain. Blinking again, I vaulted over the edge, baton in full helicopter mode, and landed on a lamp, springing myself up into the air to try and close the gap.

“What’s wrong, Chat?” she called back over her shoulder, a teasing note in her voice. “Can’t keep up?”

“Have no fear, I am in full pawsuit Multimouse,” I called back as I hit the edge of another lamp and vaulted even closer. 

Multimouse veered off to the side, away from the Trocadero plaza and into downtown Paris instead. “You don’t seem to be closing the distance, Kitty,” she joshed.

Pole vaulting my way up to the roof she had gracefully landed upon with her rope, I burst into a full-on sprint, but I had to admit, somehow Mouse was able to maintain her distance. “Slow and kitty wins the race,” I said as I leapt over a skylight and managed to get a few meters closer. 

“I doubt that,” she laughed as she snagged an antenna aerial and shifted ninety degrees again; I skidded on my rubbery soles and managed to spring back into the air after her without losing too much distance. “In fact, I’m not sure you’re a very good mouser.”

_That_ made something snap inside me. With a bit of a growl, I leapt upwards and hooked a paw around a flagpole I was passing; looping several times, I launched myself at Mouse, timing it just right that I tackled her in mid-air as she was vaulting over an alleyway. She let out a surprised squeak that was completely in character as I curled around her, protecting her as best as I could from the landing on the gravelled roof we dropped onto. Creating a furrow in the gravel as we slid for close to ten meters, I relaxed my grip to roll out of the landing; cleverly, she used that moment to spring away from me again, landing on the skylight a few meters further away.

Tail trailing behind her, she vaulted out into the night again, her laughter on the wind. “ _So_ close,” she teased. “And yet, so far…”

Sitting in my crouch where I had rolled out, I had to admit grudgingly she was enjoying this far more than I was. Although, as a smile appeared on my masked visage, that _had_ kind of been the point of asking Ladybug for her special dispensation. Leaping away to try and catch Mouse again, I could clearly see the joy on Marinette’s face as she kept a few steps ahead of me, and that warmed my heart through-and-through.

Even if she _was_ mocking me.

Unbelievably, she managed to lead me on a merry chase across Paris, visiting just about all of the sights I’d originally planned on taking her to that evening. I knew she was toying with me as any good mouse would, though, allowing me to get just close enough to plant a kiss on her before zipping away, chortling as she vanished once more into the night. Idly, I wondered what the Parisians on the streets below were making of the cheerful laughter and catcalls filtering down from the rooftops. Somehow, I wasn’t all that surprised at how evenly matched we were; to be quite honest, it was a game of tag that I was quite happy to lose. Repeatedly.

Somewhere close to midnight, she made her one and only mistake, trying to scale the Eiffel Tower using her jump rope. As adept as she’d been up to that point, her attempt to snag a crossbeam about halfway up was well short, and I pivoted immediately into hero mode, adjusting the angle of my leap so I could snatch my falling girlfriend. To her credit, she didn’t panic at her potentially imminent demise, and instead smoothly wrapped her arms around my torso as I glided toward a lower crossbeam. Gently landing in a partial crouch with my precious cargo, I put my mane into her forehead. 

“That was close,” I breathed.

“Sorry,” she apologized, a look of chagrin on her face. “I forgot the jump rope doesn’t automatically expand like the yo-yo. I didn’t expect to be short.”

“Lucky for you, there was another hero in the neighborhood,” I laughed. 

“I wasn’t worried,” she smiled. “I knew you’d save me.”

“I always will, Princess,” I said, hugging her close.

“Wow,” she said as she looked over my shoulder. “What a beautiful sight.”

I turned my head slightly, reluctant to release her. All of Paris was glittering below us, the normal sounds of the city muted as the non-Miraculous slumbered. I sighed. “Not as beautiful as you, Mari.”

She turned and kissed me, and as she did so, my tail curled around her once more. “You, kitty, are an incurable romantic.”

“Guilty as charged,” I purred. 

“I suppose we should get home,” she sighed as her masked eyes returned to the skyline of Paris.

“Alas, we do have to work tomorrow,” I agreed. “I hope you enjoyed the evening, though.”

“I did,” she said. “I wasn’t sure, originally; but now that I’m up here with you… I really did. Thank you for sharing a little bit of your hero life with me.”

I hugged her closer. “It’s not all bad,” I smiled. “This is definitely one of the perks.”

* * *

“How did it go?” Ladybug asked me a few nights later. “Marinette only smiled when I asked her the same question as I retrieved Mullo.”

“Exceptionally well,” I smiled at her as we jogged along the rooftops of Paris, side-by-side. “I was a little surprised at how easily it all came back to her; we played an amazingly difficult game of Chat-and-Mouse which I won, naturally.”

Ladybug skidded to a halt. “Did you, now?” she asked, putting a hand on one hip and arching an eyebrow.

I smiled wider. “Well, I did get to take her home afterward, Milady. That’s a ‘win’ in my book.”

The yo-yo bonked me between the ears, just as I expected it would; I furiously rubbed my mane with my paws, just as she’d expected I would, and we both smiled at the old joke. Only then, as Ladybug rewound her yo-yo, did it occur to me that Marinette had said something odd up there on the Tower.

_I forgot the jump rope doesn’t automatically expand like the yo-yo. I didn’t expect to be short_.

“Chat?” Ladybug asked. “You disappeared there for a moment. What’s got your attention?”

I smiled as I looked at her, seeing Ladybug slightly differently. “Sorry,” I replied. “I was just thinking of my girlfriend.”

“Indeed,” Ladybug smirked slightly. “She’s one lucky girl.”

“Black cat that I am,” I smiled wider. “I believe I’m the lucky one, Milady.”

She bopped me on the nose with her gloved finger. “Don’t you forget it, Chat.”

“I won’t _,_ ” I replied as I smiled. _For as long as I breathe, I purromise I won’t._


	4. Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Author’s note: Marinette goes to extraordinary measures to capture the wily thief that is stealing baked goods from her parent’s bakery._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: I did a fair amount of research for this story. But I have to admit, if I ever see another passionfruit macaron again, it’ll be too soon._
> 
> _MR: Let me guess Belgian Chocolate croissants are more your speed?_

It was well after midnight on a moonless evening, close to the time that she assumed the purloining would be taking place. Carefully hidden behind the main counter of the Bakery, she knew the darkness provided no cover as this particular thief was able to cut through it easily. Her only hope was the element of surprise —that he would never expect her to confront him in this manner.

The thefts had begun a little more than a month ago, and hadn’t really been all that noticeable. A macaroon here, a croissant there; her father had simply written it off as his innate inability to keep close enough track of all they had produced from day to day. It wasn’t until the night an entire display of passionfruit macarons had disappeared that he’d even bothered to mention it to Marinette; a few days later, when the three-layer Belgian chocolate cake that had been special-ordered by the chef from the Le Grande Hotel disappeared and had needed to be hurriedly replaced at the last minute, the thefts became less of an irritant and more of a bona fide concern.

Only then did Marinette connect the dots and realize what had been going on; to her everlasting embarrassment, she was relatively certain she’d been the recipient of said baked goods. Assuring her father on the spot that she would get to the bottom of the matter, she’d spent the past few nights in her vigil at the bakery, knowing she was right but hoping she was wrong.

Carefully uncorking a thermos, she took a quick sip of hot cocoa before hurriedly sealing it back up again, knowing that her pastry nemesis had a finely honed sense of smell. Settling back on her pillow, she wrapped her blanket around her a bit more closely as she looked in the general direction of the “special treat” she had baked just that afternoon - if “baked” could even be used to describe the process. She’d spent a fair amount of time looking up the recipe on the internet, inspired by a childhood tale her Papa had told her years ago.

She hoped it would prove to be irresistible.

An hour later, though, she despaired her work was for naught and started to pack up her belongings when she heard a distinctive metallic clank, followed by a soft rubbery _thump_ just outside the main door of the shop. Holding her breath, she heard the mechanical lock as it was deftly picked by someone with experience; she arched an eyebrow, filing that away for later as she pressed herself back into the shadows once more.

The door opened very slowly, and then closed, the movement so minute the bell had no chance to ring out. Her eyes darted through the dark, and for a moment she thought she’d caught a flash of metal in the stray light from the street. Marinette had to admit, he could truly be stealthy when he wanted to be.

Shifting her position slightly gave her line-of-sight toward the center of the shop where the multi-layer cake again had pride of placement. Blinking against the darkness, she _thought_ she could see the green glowing eyes as they appraised their latest potential victim, and she held her breath once more. Willing him to continue, she was rewarded when two dark shapes - presumably his paws - moved toward the cake.

Marinette prayed she’d used enough vanilla to mask the underlying scent of the concoction and knew she scored when a moment later she heard a low growl, followed by a deeper, more gutterally menacing one. Her ears were not as good as his, of course, but she was reasonably sure she was hearing a long series of low curses as he struggled against a surprisingly intractable foe. Smiling, she waited long enough to hear a more panicked set of movements followed by a much louder set of growl-laced curses before standing and snapping on the main lights for the shop.

The scene that greeted her was not totally unexpected, for there in the middle of her parent’s bakery was Chat Noir, two paws and one boot embedded in the molasses concoction she had created. Seeing her, he narrowed his masked eyes and redoubled his efforts to free himself; for a moment, she thought he might actually succeed before his paw snapped back into the gelatinous mess.

Tail slashing furiously against the tile, he pointedly didn’t look at her. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?” he said, not without a slight trace of amusement.

“Yes,” she laughed as she came around the counter and leaned against it, arms folded. 

“Totally unfair that you told me this was your favorite treat,” he accused, a slight smile on his lips now. “I am _way_ too gullible when it comes to you, Princess.”

“It’s one of your most endearing qualities, kitty,” she smiled as she stepped a bit closer. “And I needed to be sure. Apologies at tricking you.”

“Already forgiven,” he replied. “So, how much trouble am I in?”

“Plenty,” she laughed. “You want to explain to me why you’ve been stealing the treats you then ply me with on our dates? I just assumed your alter ego had been ordering them in advance.”

Looking chagrined, Chat’s face flamed slightly. “I… uh, well it’s hard to explain other than to say it’s not easy for my alter-ego to do that without drawing unwanted attention. But I also know what your favorites are, so I wanted our time together to be special.”

“But _stealing_?” she said, eyes wide. “That’s about as antithetical to Chat as anything.”

“Wait, what?” Chat said, a look of confusion on his masked face. “Who said anything about _stealing_?”

Marinette put a hand on her hip. “What do you call this, then?” she demanded, pointing to the mess he was in.

A look of dawning recognition hit Chat’s face and he started to laugh. “Check my costume pocket, please. Right side if you don’t mind.”

Perplexed, Marinette moved closer and leaned down, unzipping his pocket and producing a one-hundred Euro note. Holding it up, she looked back at him. “You… have money?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled. “I take it no one noticed the extra hundred or two I’ve been placing in the register the nights I visit?”

Marinette thought about that for a moment. “Maman assumed Papa had rung up something incorrectly, though to be honest, she did say it’s been weeks since the till balanced.”

Chat arched a masked eyebrow at her.

“Oh my God, Chat!” Marinette laughed. “I can’t believe I even thought---”

“You are forgiven, again,” he laughed, “but only if you get me out of this sticky situation.” He paused. “What _is_ this, anyway? I can’t believe I’m unable to pull out of it, given my superstrength.”

“Old family recipe,” she laughed again. “Molasses with a touch of gelatin to keep it sticky,” she explained, wisely omitting the magical ingredient Tikki had provided to ensure Chat would stay put. “I’m afraid you’ll probably need to Cataclysm your way to freedom.”

Chat shook his wild mane in disbelief. “I hope to kwami you never get akumatized,” he said. “It’ll be the end of me.”

She leaned down and kissed him between the feline ears. “With you in my life, there’s little chance of that happening, Kitty.”


	5. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette is shocked when she learns that Chat was never given the opportunity to be a child, and dares to recreate one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: Well, I can promise you that I have never lacked for a childhood. My official childhood is long over, but I still act like a kid!_
> 
> _Lyra: Age is just a number. Maturity is a choice._
> 
> _Ep: (puts on Chat ears) Exactly!_

Chat Noir was willing to try just about anything, at least once. In the heat of the battle, it was necessary for him to be flexible, not just physically, but in his actions and thinking as well. He was patrolling late one afternoon with Ladybug, when they heard screams followed by peals of laughter. His tail started to flick and his ears twitched, and Ladybug laughed as they angled towards the sound. The sight that met their eyes absolutely stunned Chat.

Tail twitching in agitation, Chat watched the children rolling down the grass of a steep hill, and he stared, enraptured. It was minutes before he turned to Ladybug and asked what they were doing. Ladybug stared at him, incredulous. “Have you never rolled down a hill before?”

At Chat’s wide-eyed stare and stupified head shake, it was obvious that he hadn’t. Ladybug let him watch, mesmerized, for a few more minutes before she tapped his shoulder and tilted her head, indicating that it was time to leave. With one last longing look, Chat followed his partner into the afternoon sunshine. 

A few nights later, Marinette was finishing up her homework while sitting, enjoying the warmth of the late spring evening, when she heard the thump of feet landing on the roof behind her. Smiling to herself, she turned to see Chat Noir looking down on her from the ledge. Grinning, she waved at the plate of cookies, and he hopped down to join her as he took one and bit into it, crumbs trickling down the front of his outfit. 

Turning back to her homework, she wrote a few more sentences, before tucking her notebook back into her backpack and stretching. “Are you feeling brave?” Marinette asked the question almost casually, but the glint in her eye told him that she was planning something. 

“I’m always brave.” He flexed for her, an old joke between them, going back to the first day that they’d met, and she laughed, as he expected she would. 

“Good. Let’s go to the Grand Bassin du Luxembourg.” At Chat’s quizzical look, she grinned. “Let me grab my bag, and then you can take us.” She ducked back into her room and emerged with a backpack. 

Lifting her, Chat carried her piggyback to the Jardin du Luxembourg, landing before the large stone pond. Hopping down, Marinette swung her backpack around and pulled out a small toy sailboat. Handing it to Chat, who marveled at it, before telling him he should take it out on the water. 

Watching him play with the toy, seeing the joy in his eyes as the wind caught the tiny sail and sent it skimming across the water’s surface, Marinette’s heart broke for the young man who had clearly never experienced many of the joys of childhood. Although his delight in the toy never wavered, the wind died down and stranded the boat near the fountain. 

Undeterred, Chat leaped into the water, wading through the waist-deep liquid to retrieve his boat. He squelched back out of the water, offering up his precious prize to a giggling Marinette. His disgruntled huff had her patting his arm and had her reassuring him that she wasn’t amused by his sodden state, merely the fact that he could have used his baton to retrieve to ship. The look that he sent her, had her fit of giggles redoubling until he really started to pout. 

Pointing at the gentle swell of a hill behind the palace, Marinette snatched up her backpack and took off running, throwing “I dare you to catch me” over her shoulder as she took off. 

It was harder than he expected to catch up to Marinette, but being in a supercharged suit, he managed it long before they reached the hill she had indicated. With one arm around her waist, he snagged her, pulling her along, her feet flying out behind him as she held onto his arm. When they reached the top of the hill Chat set Marinette on her feet. She grinned up at him. “Looks like we tied.” 

Jaw dropping open in surprise, Chat looked at Marinette and she smirked back at him. Dropping her backpack, she said, “now I’ll beat you back down.” Before Chat could take a single step, she dropped to the ground and rolled down the hill. He watched her for a few moments, then followed suit, stretching out, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling. As he gathered speed, he let out an undignified shriek but collapsed at the bottom in a tangle of limbs and laughed until his stomach hurt. He grabbed Marinette’s hand tugging her to her feet and together they climbed back up the hill. 

They spent the next hour just rolling down the hill, until Marinette’s green outfit was thoroughly grass-stained, and then sat together at the top, eating the croissants that Marinette had packed in her bag. 

It was late by the time they got back to Marinette’s balcony, Chat still ruffling his hair, trying to rid it of the phantom grass blades that still haunted him. Together they made plans to allow Chat to experience other rituals of childhood that he’d never been given the opportunity to try, whether because his parents were too busy, or the act itself was unbecoming.

Marinette snorted and desperately tried to stifle the laugh that bubbled up into her throat at the thought of Chat trying to be dignified. She promised him that in the winter she’d take him sledding and build a snowman, but that he should come over on the next rainy day, and they’d build a blanket fort and watch movies. 

As she watched him leave, scampering across the rooftops, Marinette wondered about the boy in the cat suit, and what kind of parent would dare to take childhood away from their son. 

Her heart broke for her partner, and she vowed to herself that she would give him every simple childhood pleasure, even if it came a few years late.


	6. Hold My Baton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette has had a bad day. Chat is feeling down. Sometimes all you need is a moment’s peace with a friend to reset the day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: I had a rough day yesterday, and I might have…. Um, Ep? If you see a package from me… throw it away. Those are NOT the cookies you’re looking for._
> 
> _Lyra: Oh dear. Were they camembert cookies? Because that sounds…. Terrible._
> 
> _Ep: (puts clothespin on nose) You really shouldn’t have..._

Sometimes, after the stars had come out and the hustle and bustle of the city quieted to a soft hum, Marinette liked to just lean on the metal bars of her rooftop balcony and admire the lights of Paris. Sometimes, it was to gain inspiration for the inkling of creativity scratching at the back of her thoughts. Other times, she just needed to clear her head and think of something other than boys. Still others, to escape the pressures of life as a busy teen with too many responsibilities - including moonlighting as a superhero. 

It was a night such as this that Marinette stood on her balcony, head tipped up to the stars, trying to keep the tears of frustration welling up in her eyes at bay. A terrible day weighed heavily on her - reprimanded for being late to class, a failed assignment, Lila’s unended stream of lies that constantly wheedled their way into her friends, screwing up what should have been an easy sewing commission followed by an incredibly challenging akuma that led to a horrible fight with Chat Noir. 

He didn’t deserve her frustrated outburst or the cruel things she spat at him in her anger. The look on his face, crestfallen, kitten ears against his hair, was going to haunt her dreams tonight. Instead of his playful antics as they parted ways, Chat simply jumped off the roof and vaulted away without a word. 

Right then she knew she’d gone too far. Snapped back into reality like ice water on the head, she’d tried the communicators to apologize, but no answer meant that Chat had either transformed or refused to talk to her. 

She wanted to change back into Ladybug and leave him a long apologetic message, but something stopped her. Embarrassment, likely, although shame came a close second. He deserved better than a random night-time phone message. Maybe she could just leave him a message to meet her somewhere. 

“Tikki?” she called softly, not wanting her voice to carry down the quiet street. A small blur of red zipped through the balcony window. “I-” 

The soft and familiar thump on the rooftop behind her made Marinette whirl. Chat perched on the edge, peering down at her. Every inch of his being seemed to droop uncharacteristically, his tail flopping lifeless beside his boots. The half-hearted smile he gave her nearly made her give up all pretense and just throw herself at him with a full-fledged apology. 

“Hey,” he said softly, not moving from his spot. 

“Chat?” 

He didn’t visit her often - her civilian self mostly just that to her hero - simply a girl he’d rescued once or twice. Once, they’d had a brief visit on this very balcony, commiserating about heartbreak. Guilt flooded through her at that memory, too. Another reminder of how badly she’d hurt her partner’s feelings today with her behaviour. 

”Everything ok?” she asked, knowing full well that he was miserable because of her. He let out a soft sigh, dropping himself to the balcony railing, perching more like his namesake than a human. A quick side-eyed glance studied her face for a moment before looking off to the night.

“Just trying to figure out some stuff. Had a fight with a friend today and it made me sad.” He left it at that, not saying anything more. After a quiet “oh,” Marinette leaned on the railing near him. Silence filled the air between them. 

When she looked up at him again, she caught the flash of green quickly looking away from her - as if he was afraid she would notice his glance. 

“What about you?” he finally asked, “you ok?” 

The simple question made the lump in her throat swell, tears that she’d been trying so hard to swallow blurring her eyes as a sob escaped her. She didn’t want him to see her like this - a weak, sobbing mess, but the stress of the day crashed over her with abandon, forcing her to wrap her arms around herself in hopes to keep herself from falling apart. 

He must have realized she needed him, somehow, because he was there, standing beside her and pulling her close with warm arms. The tears didn’t scare him away, nor the unrelented sobs. Chat simply held her as everything within her snapped - finally free from all the stress that she could barely keep contained.

Pulling herself together took longer than she hoped, prying herself from his grasp with a quiet apology. Chat simply smiled, a small half-smile that felt strangely calming and familiar all at once. 

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, making her shift uncomfortably. 

“Not really,” she admitted. 

Silence hung again. 

“I have an idea.” Leaning into her face, his eyes twinkled dangerously. “Do you trust me?” 

Of course she trusted him. What kind of question was that? A small nod of her head seemed to satisfy him. 

“Hold my baton.” Suddenly a flash of silver flew in her direction, forcing her to react by scrambling to catch it, fumbling the stick several times before managing to clutch it in both hands against her. He grinned, unexpectedly scooping her up and jumping off the balcony. She should have been ready, she supposed, squeaking at the sudden movement. It felt like flying. Every other time she’d been in his grasp as her civilian self, she’d only had a moment or two before he’d placed her back on her feet to deal with an akuma. This time was different - the relaxed movements of his leaps calming instead of urgent. 

“Ok, ready the baton. I’ll need you to point it down then push the button when I say, ok?” 

Nodding probably wasn’t the best way to answer, but she felt him chuckle in response. 

“Three. Two. One. Now!” 

With careful movements, she tilted the baton and pressed the button, yelping as it hit something beneath them, propelling them in a whole new direction with a jolt. 

“Again!” he ordered, and she complied, wind ruffling her hair. Twice more and they had propelled farther than she had expected. His feet slowed, steps coming to a stop with some heavy breaths. Setting her down again, he grinned, every inch of his demeanour shifted from the sadness that he’d oozed earlier. He took a moment to catch his breath before explaining. 

“Sometimes, I just run around in the night and I find some cool places. Like this one.” 

Grasping her hand, he pulled her down a dark path. The gentle sounds of water tumbling to rocks filled her ears, hard stone beneath her feet. It smelled musty and damp, but wonderful. 

“Where are we?” she whispered. 

“It’s this cool mini grotto thing in the middle of a park.” 

She wished she could see it better, nighttime being too dark to appreciate it as well as she should. A tug on her hand brought her to some stairs. At the top sat a small building, barely visible in the night sky. Shaped like a Greek temple, it overlooked a lake, lights twinkling off its surface. 

Wordlessly, Chat urged her to sit beside him on the stone bench. Taking a deep breath, Marinette leaned up against him - just like she always did. Chat was safe. It felt right. He made a soft contented sound. 

The peacefulness of the moment seeped into her skin, washing away the stress of the day. If only she could in some way make him feel better - the same way that he always seemed to just know exactly what she needed. Closing her eyes, she just breathed, letting the sounds of nature and the warmth of her favourite person lull her to the edge of sleep. 

A soft chuckle pulled her from her sudden exhaustion, green eyes peering down at her when she managed to drag her own eyes open. 

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured, scooping her up in his arms. “Hold on, ok?” He didn’t have to tell her twice, her arms wrapping around his neck and her face nuzzling against his chest. He didn’t ask for anything else - just her trust as he leapt back the way they had come. 

Sleep fell heavy on her, the rhythmic feel of his feet on roofs and stones a lullaby that she didn’t even know she needed. 

“We’re here.” His voice was soft and tender in her ear, holding her close as her feet slid to the stones of her balcony. Another chuckle as she yawned loudly. 

“Thank you, Kitty. I’m so sorry that I yelled at you today. You didn’t deserve that.” Another yawn forced her to pause mid-thought, hand covering her mouth. “It was a terrible day, but you always know exactly what I need.” Raising up on her toes, she sleepily pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Sleep well.” 

Slithering her way through the skylight window, Marinette didn’t even bother to do more than kick off her shoes before tucking herself under her comforter and letting dreams take her again - oblivious to the cat boy on her roof standing with fingers pressed to the cheek she had kissed, shocked to his core. If she had been awake even a moment longer, she might have heard the whisper of “My Lady?” gasped into the darkness. 


	7. Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _College-aged Chat has spent the best night of his life with Marinette, but as the sun arrives he needs to slink off and get ready for class. Except his normal escape route is blocked - forcing him to don a most unusual disguise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: Just so you all know, I have no direct experience here. Just sayin’._
> 
> _Lyra: Except for the cat ears….._
> 
> _MR: I believe it. You never_ went _to class._

Chat Noir was having the most purrfect dream.

The sky was a brilliant blue, and he was curled around Marinette in a wide open field, not unlike the one he’d had a photo shoot in a few weeks earlier; the radiant sun was beating down, warming his costume delightfully. Wildflowers of every color imaginable were in bloom, making the air fragrant with their perfume as they gently swayed with the light breeze that sporadically fluffed his wild mane. Marinette had let her hair fall down around her shoulders - a look that he especially liked - and had placed her head upon his chest at the proper angle for him to comb it out for her with his claws.

Purring softly, he stretched just a little bit, careful not to move his slumbering companion. He loved to watch her sleep, examining every line, and every detail once she fell into beautiful repose. More than one evening he’d enjoyed the simple act of her sleeping, an entertaining adventure far superior to anything Chat could find on his streaming service back in his own dorm room. It reminded him just how fortunate he had been to land on Marinette’s balcony all those years ago with a broken heart, looking for a friendly ear.

She’d been all that and more over the years.

Sighing contentedly, Chat closed his masked eyes and twisted his head just a bit more in an attempt to drain even more warmth from the sun. Being a cat had it’s advantages, and his ability to soak up every photon was one he had never tired of. He’d found a nifty side benefit in that the way his costume retained the heat made him even more snuggle worthy, at least according to Marinette.

Who was he to argue?

As he drifted off to sleep, it occurred to him he was _already_ sleeping, and he wondered if he was in some sort of meta dream state, with one building upon the other. If he fell asleep in his dream, did that mean he was actually going to awaken? Or would he start another set of dreams? The mirror-within-a-mirror idea started to make his fur brain hurt, and he decided to put dream mechanics to the side---

“Chat?”

A feline ear flicked. Chat sleepily thought it was funny Marinette was able to call to him, given she was sound asleep against his chest.

“ _Chat!”_

Masked eyes shot open, and Chat saw the concerned face of Marinette looking at him sideways. “Princess?” he said carefully, blinking to clear away the last of the cobwebs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got to _go_!” she cried frantically, tugging him out of her bed.

Chat trained a half smile on his girlfriend, attired still in the Chat Noir pajamas he’d given to her as a Christmas gift that year. He glanced over her shoulder and saw that her roommate’s bed was still perfectly made. “You said Alya wasn’t returning until tomorrow,” he reminded her.

“She texted! They got back early and she’s less than five minutes out!”

“Texted?” he frowned as he popped open his baton. It was barely 0635 - he still had plenty of time to soar over the rooftops of the University and get back to his dorm room for a shower and change of clothes prior to his first class of the day. “At this hour?”

“She’s bringing _breakfast_!” Marinette fairly shrieked as she pushed him toward the window of the dorm room. “Go!”

“Marinette, what’s the big deal? You told her you were dating me, right?” he asked as he paused, one paw over the latch to the sliding window.

Her blush made him grin a bit. “You _didn’t_ tell her,” he surmised.

“I told her I was dating,” she said defensively, “just not _who_.” She paused. “And given what she does in her spare time, I can’t have her finding out my boyfriend is one half of the Heroes of Paris, now can I?”

As a frequent reader of Alya’s _Ladyblog_ , Chat knew Marinette was right. The moment she found out about them, they’d be front page material. So far they’d managed to keep it on the down low - _or high_ , Chat corrected mentally, given that most of their time together had been on rooftops. 

“Good point,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“Maybe!” she said, pushing him to the window. “Go!”

Chat chuckled and twisted the old latch to the window; to his surprise, it popped off in his hand. Frowning, he held it up to Marinette. “When you said you’d picked a historic dorm…” he trailed off, his masked eyes looking to her deep blue.

“Can you open it still?” Marinette asked, the rising panic evident in her voice.

“Sure,” he said confidently as he turned again and tried to lift the window up. It jiggled in the frame, but refused to budge. “The lock is still engaged,” he said as he knelt down to peer into what was left of the opening mechanism. “And I don’t think I can sneak a claw in there to spring it.”

“And you’re not gonna Cataclysm it, either,” Marinette said as she tugged him toward the door to the hallway. “I can’t afford to pay to replace it.”

“I can--” Chat started, but Marinette was singularly focused on the sliver of the hallway she could see from the partially opened door.

“Damn!” she breathed. “Of all of the times…!”

Chat peered around her and to his amazement, saw Chloe Bourgeois striding down the hallway. “She doesn’t go to this University,” Chat said before realizing he might be giving away more than he should. “At least, I don’t remember you saying she was attending classes here.”

“She’s not,” Marinette replied as she closed the door. “But Sabrina does, and she’s in the next room over.”

“How random is that?” Chat frowned, knowing that sneaking past Chloe was going to be a problem.

“Not very,” Marinette groaned as she started to look around her room. Chat was struck by how similar she looked to Ladybug when she was working her Lucky Vision. “Ah,” Marinette said after a few seconds.

“What?” Chat replied, perplexed as Marinette dragged him yet again to another part of the room.

“Stand. Here,” she pointed, taking the baton out of his paw and putting it on her desk.

He stood, not one to cross his Princess.

Marinette dove into her closet and came back with her fabric supplies, a toolbox and a pair of coveralls stained with pink paint. “Put those on,” she commanded as she handed him the coveralls and tossed the rest of her goods on her bed.

Carefully, Chat threaded his boots through the coveralls, somewhat amazed it fit over his costume. Just as he snapped the final suspender into place, Marinette was forcing a dark navy t-shirt over his mane (“Hey! Watch the ears!” he cried out as she tugged) that was perhaps just a little too tight for his liking. Before he could complain about it, though, she was pressing one paw into an arm of a painting smock.

Mere moments later, he was standing in front of her full-length mirror on the back of the room door; save for the mask and ears, Marinette had done an excellent job of hiding his costume. Even the tips of his boots looked totally appropriate.

“One moment,” Marinette clucked as she rummaged through her dresser; in short order, she handed Chat a pair of sunglasses she had bought to make another round of props for Jagged some months earlier. Fortunately, they were overly large, and once he donned them, hid all but the extreme edges of his mask.

“Now, about those ears…” Marinette said, tapping her finger on her lips. “Ah-ha!” she cried, turning to a sizeable scrap of fabric on her bed. A quick fold here, another there and she beckoned to Chat. “Lean down a bit, would you kitty?” she asked.

He complied, and she wound the fabric around his head as if he were wearing it as an old-fashioned skullcap; as she carefully pulled the corner over the top of his mane to tie it into the other ends she’d created, she apologized. “If you can flatten your ears, this will be less uncomfortable.” 

Chat grimaced as she gently pressed his feline ears down. “They don’t work like that, Princess,” he reminded her.

“Well, you only have to hide them until you reach the elevator or the stairwell,” she said. “And I assume you want the stairwell, since Alya will be coming up the elevator.”

“Agreed,” Chat nodded. “I can access the roof faster anyway.”

“Okay,” Marinette said as she handed him her art toolbox and returned to the doorway. “Well,” she snorted. “A little luck - Chloe is standing just inside the door to Sabrina’s room and is blocking the elevator.”

Chat leaned down and kissed Marinette. “Let me know when you get the window fixed,” he said sadly. “Otherwise, it’s rooftop visits for a while.”

“I will,” she laughed. “Now go,” she whispered as she opened the door.

Sliding out through the space, Chat walked deliberately away from the ever-loud voice of Chloe and toward the stairwell not ten meters from Marinette’s room. His feline hearing picked up the ding denoting the arrival of the elevator, and he casually picked up the pace; Alya’s voice carried easily, and was even louder as the doors parted. Chat had his paw on the door to the stairwell and was just moving through it when he heard Alya unlock her door.

Quickly moving into the stairwell, Chat caught Alya’s greeting.

“Girl!” she cried out. “What happened here? And is that the handle to the window--?”

Chat paused, curious, and pulled the head scarf off so he could press a feline ear to the door. Marinette was too soft for him to hear her response, but Alya, ever exuberant, was easy to eavesdrop on.

“Last minute? Can I see the design?” 

There was a long pause. 

“You never do anything without a sketch… wait, did you borrow my coveralls? Where are they…?” 

Another pause.

“That guy in the corridor just now - he had coveralls similar--”

Chat raised a masked eyebrow. His friend certainly was observant. Marinette must have been saying something, for her voice was a little louder but still not enough for him to hear. But Alya’s next exclamation was loud enough that doors up and down the hallway opened.

“ _That’s Chat Noir’s baton! Chat Noir was here! With you!_ ”

With a start, Chat grasped at empty air where his baton should have been sitting snugly on the small of his back. Marinette had taken it from him when he was being dressed, and like a good model, he’d allowed her to do so; his masked eyes went wide, knowing while it was still technically possible for him to soar over the rooftops of Paris without it, he’d have to do it the old fashioned way - and that would make him a tad late for class.

But it didn’t matter, for his feline ears shot straight up as he heard Alya charge out into the hallway. “Staircase!” she cried. “He went up the staircase! _I want pictures!_ ”

Deciding prudence was the better part of valor, he started up the stairs two at a time, shedding elements of his disguise at each landing. By the time he reached the roof, he was galloping like his life depended on it, bursting through the doors and leaping across a skylight, then another, before arcing over an alleyway and landing on the adjacent dorm. He’d barely skidded behind a greenhouse when Alya burst through the door of the stairwell herself, calling his name.

Sinking into the shadows of the greenhouse, Chat frowned, knowing it would likely be a long, long time before Marinette invited him over again for another all-nighter playing video games.


	8. Don't Tell Me What To Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: I have no idea what to write for an author’s note other than “Please don’t hurt me” and “technically this IS MariChat”_
> 
> _Lyra: There’s ALWAYS a loophole with you…._

Chat Noir ran across the rooftops of Paris with one-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng strapped to his chest. The Ladybug Miraculous looked huge on her toddler-sized ears, and Tikki snuggled close to her neck, hiding under one of her pigtails. Her mother had begged him not to take her out, but he needed to. Today of all days, he needed to get out, he needed to run, and he needed to do it with Marinette. Begging her not to tell him what to do, he cradled the toddler in his arms. Tears prickled at his eyes, but he blinked them away, holding Marinette close. He buried his face in her hair breathing in the calming lavender scent of her baby shampoo.

It was becoming a common sight to see Chat Noir carrying an infant around the rooftops of Paris, and everywhere they went, people would stop and coo at the baby, offering her toys and mementos. Marinette had a whole room in the house dedicated to the Ladybug themed gifts she had received over the past year. 

Analise Dupain-Cheng was a patient woman. She had to be, having been married to Chat Noir for the past three years. She’d only been 14 when Hawkmoth was defeated, two years younger than the heroes that had saved the city, but more than old enough to follow the events on the news. It had been 5 years later that she’d met Chat Noir, Adrien Dupain-Cheng, in one of her classes at University. He’d been much as the public had seen him over the years as Chat Noir, a little neater, a little quieter, but with haunted green eyes, even all those years later. 

She didn’t know much about what had happened, only that Chat and Ladybug had defeated Hawkmoth. The man behind the mask, Gabriel Agreste had turned out to be Adrien’s father, and Mayura was his assistant. The news was made public, and the truth about Adrien’s double life came out during the weeks that followed. Gabriel had died from injuries sustained during the fight before he ever saw the inside of a jail cell. 

The city was celebrating the permanent removal of Hawkmoth when the news broke that Ladybug had also passed away during the fight. Her last words had been to cast the Miraculous Cure, and to order both Viperion and Bunnix not to change this fate, they had won a hard-fought battle, and her life was a price worth paying. 

Adrien had broken the news to the Dupain-Chengs, who were aware of their daughter’s activities, but had never let on that they knew. After learning the identity of Hawkmoth, and that Adrien would be alone, they offered to adopt him. More than grateful, the threesome grieved and raged together, becoming as tightknit a family as ever was forged under such harrowing circumstances. 

The adoption was made legal, the mayor speeding the process along due to the circumstances, and Adrien couldn’t shed the Agreste surname fast enough. He briefly considered taking his mother’s name, Graham de Vanily, but eventually settled on Dupain-Cheng after his adoptive family. 

During his senior year of university, he met Analise, a red-haired spitfire who stood up for the underdog and was not swayed by his fame. The two started dating and were fairly serious about each other before Adrien brought her home to meet his family. The pair were married not long after, and when they found out that they were expecting a baby girl, Adrien was determined to name her Marinette. Knowing his history, and the complicated relationship Adrien had had with his partner, Analise agreed, and their blonde-haired, blue-eyed daughter was Christened Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chat had never given up his Miraculous, nor had he passed on the Ladybug miraculous, instead, retaining the guardianship of the Miracle Box that Marinette had left behind. He’d always patrolled sporadically, even after there was no magical threat, and when his daughter was born, she came with him. They’d had her ears pierced when she was a newborn, and from the time she was able, she wore the earrings her namesake had never removed in life. 

So, a month after the tenth anniversary of the defeat of hawkmoth, one-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng clung to her father’s chest as they raced across the rooftops of Paris through the late-afternoon sun to the plot where a sixteen-year-old girl had been laid to rest. 

They sat in front of her gravestone, while Chat told Marinette stories of his exploits with Ladybug, the fun that they’d had, and the stories behind each akuma. He talked of her eyes and her heart, and how the city she loved had been more important to her than her own life. He talked of her spirit and her professionalism, and how she always went her own way, nobody telling her what to do or how to think. 

He told Marinette that Ladybug had been his first love, and that while he loved her mother, there would always be a place in his heart for his partner. The woman who had never been given a full chance at life. Marinette sat there and watched the tears run down her father’s cheeks as she silently munched on a macaron that she, giggling, shared with a solemn-eyed Tikki.

The gravesite was quiet as they sat there, the crowds had come a few weeks before, on the tenth anniversary of her death, but Chat and Marinette sat quietly, celebrating what would have been the 27th birthday of a life that was taken all too soon. Marinette grabbed hold of a stuffed black cat that had somehow missed the eyes of those who had cleaned up the remembrances. She snuggled it close with a happy cry of “Papa!”

Eventually, Chat bundled his daughter back into her carrier, as she clung tightly to her newest prized possession. “Come on Little Bug, we need to get you home before your Maman gets too upset. I know she doesn’t like it when I take you out, does she?” He pressed his finger to the end of her nose, and she went cross-eyed trying to follow it. “But she can’t tell me what to do, especially not today.” 

Chat lay a hand of the gravemarker before blinking away his tears. Marinette blew kisses and waved bye-bye as Chat used his baton to launch them back to the rooftops once again on their journey homeward. 


	9. Cone of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Curious as to the exact reason Andre was akumatized, Chat returns to the Bakery’s rooftop patio and discovers something he never expected._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: You all know my research for stories that include food are legendary, right? I felt obligated to try multiple ice-cream combinations just to get into the spirit of this one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run two marathons back-to-back to regain my figure._
> 
> _MR: You know, there’s a song about that… it’s called_ Let it Go…..

A few nights after Ladybug told me she was in love with another boy, I found myself aimlessly circling Paris. Despite having told my partner that I could be satisfied with just having her as a friend in my life, I had realized it was something of a lie - that, in fact, her disclosure had actually sent me into something of a pit of despair. Admittedly, I was pretty new to love - Ladybug being my first real crush and all. And it wasn’t like I had a cadre of close, personal friends I could turn to for support, either. The few I did have I could count on one paw, and there was no way I could visit _any_ of them as Chat Noir; having Adrien drop in and discuss his love for Ladybug would be as equally revealing.

That last thought brought me up short, and as I landed on an peaked cupola of a school building, I realized I did have one friend besides Ladybug I could go to as Chat Noir; smiling, it dawned on me that the _last_ time I’d seen her, she, too, had been nursing a broken heart and shattered dreams. Thinking we might have more of a shared bond than I realized, I changed directions and made for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, and the cozy rooftop patio where I might find Marinette.

As I neared, my feline eyes caught her out once more, leaning over the railing and watching the river. Feeling like it was a good sign, I landed gently atop the same chimney I’d graced a few nights earlier. “Hello,” I called out softly.

Marinette turned away from the river and up, a slight smile on her face. “Chat Noir! Twice in one week,” she laughed, then got sober. “Wait - don’t tell me your heart was broken _again_.”

I smiled at her intuitiveness. “Yeah. I should have seen it coming,” I sighed. “May I join you? Or are you in the middle of something?”

“No -- please!” she replied, waving me down. “Honestly, I could use some company tonight.”

I leapt to the railing and perched. “I hope you don’t mind my dropping in,” I said carefully. “I felt after my last visit that we had a bit in common, given that we were having trouble in love.”

Marinette smiled sadly. “Not at all,” she said. “I don’t imagine you have many people you can talk to, can you?”

“Not really,” I nodded, my tail swinging back and forth casually as I spoke. “Ladybug is the only one I _could_ talk to, and you know the story there; talking to my civilian friends about her would raise some suspicions, so…” I shrugged. “Here I am.”

“I understand,” Marinette said with a smile.

“I take it that not much has improved on your front, either?”

“You could say that,” she sighed as she leaned against the railing next to me. “After Andre got akumatized, I found myself believing that his ice cream _was_ magical; now, I’m not so sure.”

I looked at her. “Maybe it needs some time to work,” I said, thinking back to my very Ladybug-esque sundae I’d had a day earlier. “Or maybe it represents only one side of the love?”

“That’s a good point,” she smiled. “We see what we want to see, even if it’s unrequited.”

Flipping around to sit on the railing, I asked carefully: “You don’t have to tell me, but I inferred from the akuma attack that you were there when Andre had whatever moment it was that brought him to Hawkmoth’s attention.”

“I was,” she sighed. “And I think it was my fault, for I flatly told Andre he was crazy when he handed me a cone representing my true love.”

My feline curiosity was piqued. “Was it?”

“Was it _what?_ ” she asked.

“The cone. Did it represent your true love?”

Marinette looked away. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Both times; I went back yesterday and he served the exact same flavors to me again.”

There was a long pause, and then she added, very quietly, “I’m quite ashamed at what I did.”

And then she started to sob.

Without really thinking about my actions, I swiftly slid off the railing and gently put an arm around her, much like I would a recovering akuma victim. “It’s not your fault,” I assured her. “Hawkmoth preys on emotion, and any wedge he can use, he will.”

“I know,” she said, sniffing. “But I hurt Andre. And in some ways, I feel like the universe is retaliating, keeping me from connecting with the boy I love.” She looked up at me. “He doesn’t even see me - at least, as anything but a friend.”

“I can’t believe that,” I said as I hugged her closer. “You’re such an amazing person, how can he not see that?”

Marinette blinked. “That’s… kind of you to say,” she replied. Only then did I see the strange look on her face and realize _Chat_ had only seen Marinette on a handful of occasions. 

Smoothly I tried to cover for myself. “I mean, look, I’ve only dropped by, what, three times? And even I can see how clawsome you are.”

She smiled at the pun, though for a moment I was sure she’d started to roll her eyes. “That means a lot. Thanks.”

I smiled at her. “It’s true. Cats are good judges of character.”

_That_ garnered the eye roll, but I could also see I’d managed to jolly her out of her mood. “Of course they are.”

I turned her around to face me, struck by a thought. “Come with me,” I said, putting a paw out much as I had a few nights earlier.

“Where are we going?” Marinette asked as she took my paw. It wasn’t lost on me that she hadn’t hesitated at all - nor could I deny the slight thrill of excitement at her touch. 

What was that all about?

“Let’s see if the magic really _does_ work.”

Finding Andre took longer than I expected, but in the end, we located him on the Pont des Arts. Marinette and I waited on a nearby rooftop for the crush of his customers to thin as I presumed Marinette wouldn’t necessarily want us to be seen together in public. One never knew when our friend Alya might appear, smartphone in hand, looking for the next Ladyblog scoop. Once the coast was clear, I carefully lowered us down on my baton to a spot just below the steps. “Princess,” I said as I bowed and held a paw out for her to proceed me.

She giggled slightly and surprised me by taking my paw in hand and starting up the stairs. I smiled at the act, for it was so genuine, and so unpretentious; it was total Marinette, completely throwing herself into the moment much as I’d seen her do so many times at Dupont. As Chat, it was easy for me to follow her lead and be carried away by her exuberance - something that I found much harder as Adrien. The mask had given me such an amazing opportunity to be the person I wanted to be.

Mounting the stairs, I felt a strange electricity in the air about us, a charged excitement that I’d not felt during my last visit to Andre just yesterday. I smiled slightly as we started across the bridge, wondering if I had just missed Marinette as I’d made my own foray to check on the efficacy of the frozen concoction. In some ways, it was her fault I had made my bodyguard track down Andre, for after battling the akuma she’d generated, I’d had a burning desire to find out what he might serve _me_. I’d been suitably impressed by the Ladybug-esque sundae presented to me, though it hadn’t been a slam dunk.

I wondered if being transformed was somehow making me able to sense the magic that surrounded the treats the ice cream maestro created, for the feeling increased palpably as we approached the pushcart and it’s jauntily colored awning. Andre was standing just in front of his wares and was watching our approach with the glee of a young child; waves of joy radiated from him, and I felt like if I blinked enough, I might actually be able to see them.

“Ah, here they are at last!” he cried in that melodic voice of his. “A couple so perfectly matched.”

I stopped short, feline ears standing straight up and masked eyes wide with shock. _That_ wasn’t what I had been expecting. “We’re… we’re not a couple,” I said, eyes darting to Marinette. I could see she had a similarly shocked look on her face. “Just friends.”

Andre smiled at me in that knowing way. “The heart never lies. Never to Andre!” he pronounced proudly as he tapped his ice cream scoop to his apron. “First, for the lady.”

Flipping open one side of the freezer, he hummed to himself as he happily put together a cone for Marinette; in short order, he turned and proudly presented it for inspection. “A scoop of vanilla for his hair of sunshine and one of mint for his eyes of emerald. Topped with two bits of chocolate for ears that are lent whenever needed most.”

I knew my mouth had dropped open, for Andre was handing Marinette the ice cream equivalent of Chat Noir, right down to the exact placement of the pointy bits of chocolate atop the scoop of vanilla. My masked eyes moved to Marinette’s face, and her expression told me she’d made the same connection, too. I wanted to say something - anything - but that charged sense of excitement had notched up a few degrees. Whether from her reaction or my own anticipation at the second cone Andre was just now beginning, I couldn’t be sure.

Humming once more, Andre worked his scoop again for a few moments before proudly turning around and holding his prize out to me. “Strawberry for her lips of rose and blackberry for her hair; blueberries for eyes of azure which have but one in their sight.” 

Taking the cone into my paws, my masked eyes roved the concoction and then flicked to Marinette, quickly concluding I was holding a frozen version of my friend. I looked back at Andre, and once more felt the waves of joy washing over us. “Thank you,” I smiled, drawing my own certainty from the burly man.

“Yes. Yes, thank you,” Marinette replied after a long moment, turning to me with a smile of wonder. 

“I’m so happy you’ve finally found each other!” he cried as he clapped his hands together. “Young love is always the best, and makes my year every time I see it.”

“We’re not in--” I started.

“My ice cream is never wrong!” Andre laughed as he closed up his freezer. “And I will be here again on this very spot next week,” he added as he winked at us and began to push his cart away.

Staring after him, I looked back down at my ice cream and then over to mini-me in Marinette’s hand, and knew I had a confused smile on my face. “What just happened?” I asked.

“I think… I think Andre knows something we don’t,” she replied as we strolled back the way we came.

I sampled my ice cream, savoring in the explosion of flavors my feline sense of taste provided. His ice cream had been fantastic yesterday, but eating it as Chat Noir took it to another level entirely. “Does he?” I asked tentatively. I wondered if it explained the strange feeling I had in my heart, one that had been there from the moment I’d been caught by her scraping bubble gum off of her seat. 

I thought it had meant I’d found a friend. Now I wondered if it had signaled something more. For it felt wildly different than my feelings for Ladybug; those were strong, too, but this -- this was something else entirely. I looked down at the ice cream once more, suddenly knowing that Andre had seen something inside me that I’d missed completely. 

“Maybe he does,” Marinette said softly as she turned her cone around and picked off one of the chocolate bits to pop into her mouth.

“Hey!” I cried good naturedly. “That hurts!”

“Sorry,” she laughed as she spooned up some of her treat.

We sat side-by-side on the steps, watching the lights come on as the sun finally faded out, scooping and chatting companionably. I rarely had lengthy conversations with Marinette as Adrien - heck, even the last time I’d seen her as Chat, we’d been interrupted by the akuma. But just casually talking about everything felt so natural - so normal - I knew I didn’t want this connection I suddenly realized I had with Marinette to end. 

As I shoved the final part of my cone into my mouth and munched, I channeled as much as my Chat bravado and I asked as I chewed: “Do you… mind if I visit again? Maybe next week? Andre did say he would be here again. I’d… I’d love to do this again.”

Marinette paused, and my heart dropped into my stomach. Thinking I had pushed again, much as I had done in the past with Ladybug, I immediately started to apologize. “I’m sorry. That was a little too--”

“Yes,” she said.

“---you would?” I amended on the fly, my masked visage betraying my excitement. Hastily I tried to recompose it into a more normal Chat look. “That’s clawsome.” I paused. “Wait. Are you actually saying you are _okay_ with a masked feline appearing on your rooftop patio?”

“Yes,” she said with a warm smile. “I am.”

“Okay,” I said, unable to keep the goofy, very non-Chat smile from my face.

“Okay,” she nodded. “And… don’t wait until next week. If you are free this weekend--”

“I’ll be there,” I said without thinking. “Just tell me when, Princess. Assuming Hawkmoth doesn't have other plans.”

Marinette smiled wider. “All right then,” she laughed as we both stood. “At least one of us has school tomorrow, so as much as I’ve enjoyed this evening…”

“Of course,” I smiled as I reached out to pick her back up for the return trip to the Bakery. 

“Thank you for this,” she said as I extended my baton. 

“My pawlesure,” I laughed as we rose to the rooftops of Paris. “It was quite… informative, wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was,” she said firmly. “For now I truly believe.”

As I hugged her closer to my costumed chest and absorbed the unique scent that was Marinette, I nodded as I began to scurry toward the Bakery. “As do I,” I said softly. “As do I.”


	10. Can I Borrow Your Miraculous?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Working late on multiple projects, Marinette makes an unusual request of Chat Noir._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ep: An old Dolly Parton song -_ The Moon, The Stars and Me _\- came to mind when I was developing this story, which in turn made me think of romances from my past. It’s funny how music can be tagged to memory, though now I’m a little afraid of playing any other tunes out of fear of remembering a chore I’ve been putting off._

It was late once more, far later than I needed it to be. Hawkmoth had, yet again, interrupted my day and had put me hopelessly behind on both schoolwork and the two commissions I had agreed to do; homework had been relatively easy, despite the constant distractions from my kitty boyfriend who had just _happened_ by the Bakery close to when the fresh batch of macarons for the following day were coming out of the oven. Payment for his patient tutoring had been relatively inexpensive, but it was still well after dinner by the time I’d sunk my teeth into the dress I was sewing for Rose.

The akuma attack had come at a most inauspicious moment, pausing my work at a critical point in the process, though seeing Chat a second time that evening wasn’t entirely unwelcome - even if it _was_ my alter-ego that had the pleasure. I had found it increasingly harder to keep my professional persona up when we were called to action, especially the more I got to know him. I still smiled at the flirting and incessant puns that were such a part of his character, but with Ladybug they had become more or less pro forma: expected as part of his schtick while fighting by my side. 

In his private moments with me as Marinette, though, I’d discovered he was every bit as sensitive a soul as he’d seemed to be with me as Ladybug. That part of him had never been an act, and neither had been the depth of his compassion. But I had also found out that he was relatively inexperienced in a number of aspects of the real world - almost as if his civilian alter-ego had lived in a bubble for most of his sixteen years.

The notion that I had managed to drag out of him his exact age brought a smile to my face, for he had taken his duty to keep his alter-ego a secret quite seriously. It hadn’t been fair how I had tricked him into revealing it to me, and he had pleaded with me to keep it secret, worried that Ladybug would be livid that he had revealed even that tiny tidbit of his personality. I’d assured him that I was quite capable of keeping a secret, and that I was reasonably sure Ladybug wouldn’t be upset if she happened to find out.

Folding Rose’s dress into the box I’d prepared for it, I looked tiredly at the pattern laid out across my work desk. The second of the two commissions was a rather intricate outfit for Luka Couffaine; much like the rest of us, he’d had something of a growth spurt over the summer, and the original costume I’d designed for him no longer fit. Thinking of Luka brought a smile to my face, for he, too, had become a close friend over the years. Aside from Chat, he seemed to be the only other person who I could talk to when the world got me down; looking at the Miracle Box nestled into my yarn box, I smiled a bit that he, too, was unaware of my moonlighting as a superheroine.

Moonlighting… that made me sigh again. Looking at my phone, I could see it was nearly midnight, and I had yet to start on Luka’s costume. What was worse was that none of the twelve sketches I had done were the least bit appealing to me, which likely accounted for why I had put off doing it for so long. There were times when procrastination had been the mother of invention, but I was finding I was coming up empty in that department.

Slumping down on my chaise lounge, I stared at the patterns I had left out along the floor, willing any of them to speak to me. The sound of silence was profound, and in frustration, I undid the ties to my pigtails and threw them across the bedroom, shaking loose my hair. My design process was almost second nature at this point for me, so I knew that there was nothing that could force a solid idea to suddenly appear in my tired brain. I needed a distraction, a reset to my creativity. 

This was one of the few times when I found I envied how Chat used his Miraculous; getting out into the night, sailing over the rooftops of Paris with my yo-yo suddenly seemed amazingly appealing, but was entirely out of character for Ladybug. It was well known that she only appeared when needed, unlike Chat, who seemed to be out at all hours---

A thought bubbled up into my tired brain, and a slow smile formed on my face as I dove for the phone on my desk. Chat had given me his baton number right after we had formally realized we were a couple, and I quickly texted him.

**_Mari_ ** _: Are you up?_

There was but the briefest of pauses before my iPhone indicated he was typing out a response.

**_Kitty:_ ** _Cats are nocturnal, Princess. :-)_

**_Mari:_ ** _I need you._

**_Kitty_ ** _: Of course you do. LOL_

**_Mari:_ ** _I’m serious! Need a friendly ear. Rescue me! Are you free?_

**_Kitty:_ ** _Be there in five._

It felt like I had barely put the phone down on my desk when I heard the soft rubbery thump against the tiles of the rooftop patio above my room, followed by a gentle tapping at the skylight over my bed. I smiled, for the speed at which he’d appeared told me he’d not been all that far away. It wasn’t all that surprising as I was well aware Chat regularly prowled the Parisian night; what little of his civilian home life he’d hinted at led me to believe it was preferable to being there. 

The skylight opened, and Chat Noir poked his head into my room upside down, a look of concern on his masked face. “Everything alright?” he asked as he looked at me expectantly.

“Just a fashion emergency,” I sighed. “I’ve got designer’s block.”

Chat easily dropped to the floor, somehow managing a flip in mid air to land on his boots, and came over to sit down next to me on the chaise. His masked feline eyes quickly took in the paper at my feet as he slid next to me, his tail surreptitiously wrapping itself around my waist. “Most of these are pretty good,” he said as he looked them over again. “Are these for Kitty Section?”

“Yeah, and I hate all of them. And Luka needs a new costume by the morning.”

“Oh…” Chat said as he leaned his mane into me. His complicated scent of sandalwood and fresh air wafted over me, and he caught me sniffing. It wasn’t lost on me that he snuggled a bit closer. “I won’t tell you what I always say, then.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a bit biased.”

His lithe feline movements allowed him to slide effortlessly down in front of me, placing his face in front of mine. “You know I’m right. You _are_ a brilliant designer,” he said with such sincerity my self-doubt started to evaporate. How Chat always knew what to do when I was at my lowest ebb was a quality I treasured. 

Still, as I peered around his wild mane and those cute feline ears, none of the sketches appealed to me in the least. “I need some inspiration, I guess,” I sighed again, looking back at my kitty. 

Chat looked at me intently. “What can I do to help?” he asked, and I could actually feel how intense his desire was to assist me.

I reached down and scratched just behind a feline ear, and was rewarded with the soft rumbles of his purring. “That is a definite start,” I replied. “Just having you here has lowered my stress levels, but I still have a deadline to hit.”

Chat leaned gently into my touch, and notched his purring up a gear. “There must be _something_ I can do - not that I mind being a supportive kitty.”

I smiled as I tilted his head up with a finger to his chin. “You do that pretty well on---” I started and then froze, mid sentence. 

“Princess?” Chat prompted, his purring suddenly ceasing as he came around to sit beside me. “What?”

Smiling wider, I turned to look at him. “Can I borrow your Miraculous?”

Chat’s eyes went wide and his ears stood straight up. “Princess,” he said very, very slowly, “you know I would do anything for you, but… I can’t do that…”

“Silly kitty,” I laughed. “I should be a bit clearer - I want to borrow you _and_ your Miraculous abilities for an hour or two.”

“Okay…” he said, arching a masked eyebrow. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” I chuckled. “I don’t want you to Cataclysm something. I know you often roam the nights when you want to clear your mind; just do it again, but take me with you.”

Chat slowly started to nod. “Clear your mind?” he replied. “Sure, that I _can_ do.”

* * *

At that late hour, the city was pleasantly quiet; what few Parisians were about paid no attention to the stealthy black cat and his piggybacking companion as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, carefully working one of his favorite routes through the sky. “I have several different routes,” he said over his shoulder, the wind gently ruffling his mane as he moved through the night. “This is one I use when it’s been a particularly difficult day.”

“Fighting akumas?” I asked as he used his baton to pole vault over a road to land against another tilted roof. His movements were so smooth, I never felt the launch or landing.

Chat laughed ruefully. “That’s a big part, for sure. Some of what Hawkmoth has done to my fellow citizens can keep me up at night, but there are other parts of my life that are just as challenging.” He paused. “Running along under the stars lets me reset and remember there are more important things in life; that despite all of the ugliness I’ve encountered courtesy of Hawkmoth, I do some good as part of the Heroes of Paris.”

I looked up and saw what stars were able to twinkle in the night sky despite the brilliantly lit buildings and understood what he was getting at; the magnificence of the universe above us certainly put what we did on a daily basis in the proper perspective. “You do plenty of good for Paris, Chat,” I said into his feline ear. “I hope you’ve never thought otherwise.”

“There are days,” he chuckled as he slowed and then paused at the edge of a rooftop. 

_That_ sentiment surprised me, for he’d never let on to me as Ladybug that he’d ever felt like he wasn’t measuring up. “Oh, Chat,” I said softly as I hugged him closer. “I’m certain Ladybug doesn’t feel that way at all.”

“You’re probably right,” he said. “Okay, we stop here for a moment.”

I slid off his costumed back, took his paw in my hand, and stood beside him. He’d picked a rooftop I’d never been on as Ladybug, one that had a long view of the winding portion of the Seine, with Notre Dame off in the distance. Boats were slowly moving up and down the river, and the lighting on the grand cathedral was breathtaking in its magnificent simplicity. Serenity descended on me as I took in a deep lungful of the fresh night air, picking up a gentle fragrance of lavender from a planter on the street below.

The knot of stress and uncertainty that had dogged me all evening unwound as I felt Chat’s tail slowly slip around my waist and tug me into a gentle, loving hug. Putting his chin onto my head, I felt him extend his feline senses and then nod very slowly. “That’s better.”

“Yes,” was all I managed to say. The moment was so perfect, I didn’t want to spoil it.

Chat patiently stood there with me, holding me against his costumed body, his love for me radiating out from him like a protective aura. It was a comfortable place to be, and before I realized it had happened, the final roadblocks fell away to ash as if he’d also used his Cataclysm on my behalf.

Snuggling into his side, I felt his costume against the skin of my face and discovered yet again how smooth it was to the touch, despite the pattern that shimmered when it caught the light. I reached out a finger and traced the piping along his shoulder, stopping before I got to a particular portion of his chest I knew from past explorations was a little sensitive to tickling. Then the metallic accent on the little protective patch along his arm caught my fancy.

Reaching out to it, a sudden flash of a design appeared in my head, perfectly formed right down to the accent pieces. It hit me so hard, I gasped and stepped back, stumbling on the angled roof slightly.

Chat was immediately behind me, deftly swooping me into his protective arms. “Marinette? Are you okay?”

I looked to Chat and smiled wildly. “Yes! _Better_ than okay! I’ve got it!”

He smiled back at me. “Then back to the Bakery?”

“As fast as you can!”

* * *

Somewhere around five in the morning, I stood back and admired my handiwork, then twisted to look down at my supportive boyfriend. Despite my pleas that he go home and get some rest, he’d insisted on staying through to the end, though he’d eventually succumbed to the Sandman and curled up to catnap atop the chaise. I looked back at Luka’s new costume with tired satisfaction, seeing the elements inspired by Chat but knowing the final design was as unique as the musician who would be wearing it in a few hours.

“It’s clawsome,” I heard from behind me. “And another stunning success.”

I turned once more and saw his masked eyes were wide awake, though his head was still nestled down upon his hands. How he was able to curl himself into that position was yet another miracle of his transformation. “Thank you,” I said as I slid in beside him on the chaise. “I appreciate the assistance.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied as he repositioned to curl himself around me. “Except distract you enough to open you to the design that was already waiting for you.”

“Stop doing that,” I said.

“Doing what?”

“Selling yourself short! Your help was critical to my success tonight. Much as I’m sure your dependable partnership has probably been for Ladybug.” I leaned down to his face, putting my nose just a few centimeters from his masked eyes. “You are an important, invaluable part of my life - and are as responsible for that design over there as I am.”

“But--”

“Don’t you dare contradict me, kitty,” I said, giving him my best Ladybug glare.

After a long moment, Chat smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly as I felt his tail twist around my ankle. “Not in a million years.”

“Smart,” I laughed as I leaned down and kissed my incredibly amazing, masked mysterious boyfriend.


	11. Chat Blanc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ep: This title_ alone _scares me. I’m going to be hiding under the bed until you finish reading this._
> 
> _MR: *laughs wildly* You can’t blame me for this one. It really IS Lyra’s fault this time!!!!_

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Darkness wraps around me, swirling like waves of uncontrollable rage, unbidden, unwanted. It burns my throat as I struggle against it - hope failing me as fury burns inside. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to be a hero, not a monster. 

No. I can’t. I can’t give in. 

I hear her. Pleading with me to fight. Begging me to look at her. Crying for me to stay with her. 

Blue eyes marred with tears. Hands on her arms hold her away from me, keeping us apart despite how she struggles. Despite how I want to run and break her free, I am weighed down by a force stronger than gravity.

He is watching me, the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes shining with a brightness that makes me want to wrap my claws around his throat, tear him apart with the shattered pieces of my heart. He did this to me. I hate him.

A flutter of wings brings me to the brink, staring into the nothing around me, calling me to oblivion. I’m on fire, burning from the inside out, fear mingled with the violence. I want to scream but my voice is gone, swallowed by the mists of darkness pouring into my soul. 

In my ears, the beat of my own heart grows louder and louder - a quick-tempoed pulse that echoes that of the wings within me. It whispers freedom and promises, luring me into the depths. 

Another sob from her and I am broken. A softly whispered “no,” and panicked blue eyes haunt me even as I silently pray she will save me from myself. Somehow.

I let out a long breath, the shroud of evil fading like smoke from me as I close my eyes, letting it wash over me. Down I fall, the rush of darkness filling every one of my senses, pulsing through every vein, every inch of my body. 

I am Destruction. 

* * *

Everything about him was wrong, from the near blinding white of his suit and hair to the cold harshness in his crystal blue eyes. That wasn't Chat. Not her Chat anyway. 

His disconnected stare sent chills of ice through her veins, the terrified quiver of her body contaminated by the feeling of deep cold. 

"Milady," he sang, the voice a terrible mockery of the honey sweet warmth she loved. A hand stretched to reach her, unassuming and patient, waiting for her to take hold. 

No. This was wrong. He was wrong. 

"Marinette." 

She wanted to be sick at the sound of her name. 

Instead, she pulled hard, tearing herself free from the man who held her in his grasp - Hawkmoth - trapping her as a hostage against his own son, forcing him to accept the akuma and succumb to the darkness. If her earrings weren’t already gone, she would long ago have transformed and beat the man senseless. 

One tentative step forward. 

Chat closed the gap between them. She couldn't breathe. His wild eyes, poised at the brink of insanity, hardened, his head leaning in close enough to feel his breath on her face. 

"Give me your miraculous."

She set herself in place, clenching her jaw in determination. 

“No.” 

For the briefest of moments, his eyes narrowed and the already threatening aura around his crackled with a dangerous energy. Then he was moving, hand snaking around her waist in a lightning quick motion, pulling her against him and launching them into the air with his baton. She could barely contain the shrill that threatened to escape as he moved with a feral gait over the rooftops. 

Part of her wanted to wriggle out of his grasp and take her chances tumbling down the roof. But the other part wanted to save him. Somehow she had to get the akuma out of him and get her Chat back. Get Adrien back. If she could. 

Choosing to hide Tikki had been the right decision. Although Marinette wasn't sure exactly how she could keep the earrings from this Chat Blanc's grasp. A shiver rippled through her, slipping slightly in his hold as he continued hopping from building to building. 

Her arms found their way around his neck to hold on. He made a rumbling sound, similar to a growl, fingers twitching at her waist. 

"I will save you, Chat. I promise." 

* * *

The horrible sensation of slithering up my throat and out of my mouth forces me to gag, nausea washing over me. Refusing to move, my limbs are weighed down by something unknown, the core of myself shaking with a silent tremor. 

Memories crash to the fore, jerking me with terror as reality hits: My father’s face transforming from the harsh man I loved to the silver masked villain forcing me to submit to his dark will. My mother - more like a corpse than alive. Ladybug - no, Marinette’s whisper of despair as I finally fall into oblivion. 

Snapping open my eyes, all I see is nothing. Thick fog of darkness veiling my vision begins to dissipate, clearing slowly to reveal the white and blues of the sky. Then she is there, leaning into my eyesight with those eyes of soft blue, the edges crinkled in worry. 

My Lady. Marinette. 

I want to touch her. To speak words I can’t even seem to form. 

“You are ok, kitty.” Fingers brush against my hair, pushing wandering strands from my brow in a gentleness I don’t feel worthy. I’ve failed her. 

The smell of smoke and shrill sirens surround us, my eyes drifting to see Paris a chaotic mess of rubble and destruction. From me. 

Marinette knows exactly what I’m thinking, grasping my face to look at her again, leaning in so close that I can see the flecks of colour in her eyes. Her lips press quickly against mine before she backs off, jumping to her feet and transforming in front of me. 

It’s quick - the miraculous cure rushing over the city, returning everything to normal, returning me to myself. Except for the shame and trauma that claw at me. 

The spots vanish, Marinette in her place, arms thrown around me in an instant, clutching me as if somehow - she can hug the sadness from my soul. I can tell she feels it too, a pressure cracking as my arms slowly sink around her, pulling her tight. Tears slip out of my eyes, dripping into her hair. 

I don’t know, exactly, how to move ahead. How does one have everything taken away from you in a single instant, like a rug pulled out from under your feet, and still manage to survive? The body pressed against me moves, Marinette turning to look at me. 

It’s like she can see straight into my soul. 

"I will save you, Chat. I promise. You and me against the world." 

I know it’s true. Whenever I’m with her, everything will be ok.


	12. Kwami Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Barely a day into a two-week swap of their kwamis, Chat Noir finds he desperately wants Plagg back; fortunately, he runs into Marinette, who is able to brighten up his day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: That reminds me, the hummingbirds are starting to riot in my backyard. Apparently they didn’t appreciate the budget sugar I purchased last month for the feeders. I can’t tell you how scary they are with those mini-pitchforks._
> 
> _MR: *sigh* hummingbirds! Maybe when it stops snowing..._
> 
> _Lyra: I don’t blame them. You can’t just get any ol’ sugar and expect happiness._

I’m not entirely sure what it was that woke me; to be honest, the longer I was Chat Noir, the more feline traits I was starting to see in my non-transformed, civilian self. One of them was the ability to awaken quickly at the slightest disturbance, though over the past few months, I’d begun to filter out certain sounds - most notably, Plagg and his annoying tendency to rip open a foil wrapper of Camembert at two in the morning.

Sleepily, I shifted on my pillow, angling my head toward the spot where Plagg normally slept; cracking an eye open, I wasn’t surprised at his absence. What had me opening both eyes, and letting out a tiny yelp of surprise, was the presence of a certain pink kwami, sitting on the pillow with a sweet smile.

“Tikki?” I said, propping myself up on an elbow. Glancing around the room, I was hard pressed to see where my kwami had run off to. “Plagg didn’t mention you were going to visit.”

Her gentle face creased with a frown. “He didn’t?” she said, and I could hear the displeasure in her normally chipper tone. “That’s unfortunate.”

My eyes widened and I sat up, brushing back my long bangs as I did so. Since turning seventeen, I’d entered something of a rebellious stage - well, streak, maybe - and had grown my civilian hair out longer than Father was comfortable seeing. It was still not as out of control as the style I wore as Chat, but was dangerously close (as my kwami had been warning me). “Where’s Plagg?” I asked, a note of worry in my question, for the last time he’d come up missing, Master Fu had recalled him.

I was reasonably sure the new guardian wouldn’t have done that without warning me.

“He’s with Ladybug,” Tikki explained. “He was _supposed_ to remind you that we’re swapping holders for the next two weeks.”

Panicking, my eyes shot down to my ring hand; I groaned to see Plagg had rather expertly removed my Miraculous while I’d been sound asleep. A few rather nasty epithets for my small but wily friend bubbled up in several languages, but I shelved them in favor of a long, long discussion when I finally got him back

I had completely forgotten that Ladybug had planned on us swapping; save for the one time we’d been forced to use the other’s kwami, I’d managed to put her off for one reason or another. To be honest, I lived in daily fear of losing Plagg and everything he represented to me. _Willingly_ relinquishing him, even to Ladybug, had given me great pause, and when she’d mentioned it again a few weeks ago, I thought I had successfully talked her out of it once more despite her desire I become more comfortable with the Bug Miraculous.

“I thought we had a few more weeks before we were gonna do this,” I groaned again, flopping back on the pillow. “We just got out for the summer! I was looking forward to at least a few nights of freedom.”

“Sorry, Chat. Plagg told us you were ready; I didn’t realize--”

“It’s Plagg,” I laughed ruefully. “He enjoys torturing me from time to time.”

Tikki laughed as she floated over to hover above my face. I could see she was holding the earrings. “Better get these on,” she said.

“I have a tiny problem,” I said as I brushed back my hair to expose my unpierced ears.

“Not really,” she smiled wider. “Trust me,” she added as she held them out.

Sighing dramatically, I sat up once more and took the earrings. “Press them to the lobe and the magic will do the rest,” she explained.

I followed her instructions and felt the coolness of the metal when it touched my ear; removing my hand, the jewel remained affixed, though with no visible stud. My eyes widened. “That’s impressive.”

“Not every holder of mine is female,” Tikki smiled again. “I won’t go over the basics since you already know them. Ladybug is expecting a call, however, to confirm the swap.”

I nodded and threw back the sheets; Tikki flushed and flew away, mumbling an apology. Perplexed, I looked down and realized I was only in Gabriel boxer briefs and smiled slightly at her embarrassment. Padding across my room to the ensuite bathroom, I waited for her to float in beside me before sliding the door closed. Pointedly, Tikki was looking everywhere but at me and this time I couldn’t hide the smile. 

“Tikki, you have to have seen a guy before. You just told me not all of your holders were female.”

Coughing, Tikki chanced a glance at me in the mirror and immediately looked away. “None were a model,” she squeaked out.

Deciding it would be wise to put her out of her misery, I hid my smile again and called out: “Tikki - spots on!”

My normal green flash of transformation became the pink-and-white one of the Bug, and a moment later I was staring at my masked visage in the mirror. I’d barely been transformed ten seconds before deciding I was going to be pawsitively miserable for the next ten days; Chat Noir was such a part of me, wearing anything other than the feline ears and tail felt wrong. Sighing deeply, I pulled the yo-yo off my hip and flipped open the bug phone.

Ladybug - well, more precisely, Lady Noire - appeared on the small round screen, smiling from behind what by rights was _my_ mask. “Meowdam Guardian,” I said, trying and failing to add my usual purr. Another difference, another thing to dislike. “I didn’t realize today was the day.”

She frowned. “Plagg didn’t--?”

“No,” I shook my wild blonde mane. That was about the only thing that felt normal. “Do we really have to do this? I don’t feel it’s strictly necessary.”

“I do,” she said, her tone indicating it wasn’t up for debate. “Meet me tonight at our usual spot for patrol?”

“Look,” I tried again, ignoring the warning glare from my partner. “Maybe we can cut it--”

“Chat, humor me. Please?”

I may not have had the same feelings for Ladybug as I once did, but I continued to care deeply for her. As a result, I generally found myself deferring to her wishes. “Of course, Milady.”

“Then I will see you at our usual time,” she replied brightly before disconnecting.

Seeing the time on the bug phone, and knowing I had nothing planned until patrol that evening, I smiled. With Father out of town for a few days, I could come and go as I pleased. And that morning, I pleased to throw open the window to the bathroom and zip-line out into the bright sunshine, visions of catnapping in my favorite nook dancing in my head.

By no means an expert at sailing over the skies of Paris with the yo-yo, I quickly became frustrated with my slow progress; I had to admit, Ladybug made snagging items on the fly look deceptively simple, and it was turning out to be anything but. My biceps were screaming in agony when I missed yet one more antenna aerial and crash-landed on a pebble rooftop three blocks from my destination. Staring up at the pigeons that had watched me come to rest against the skylight they had alighted upon, I tried a cat growl to scare them off only to realize that, too, was lacking from my arsenal.

Sighing, I reminded myself Tikki had only been my kwami for a matter of hours that day years ago; since then, I’d logged countless thousands of hours as Chat. Reluctantly, I started to admit that purrhaps Ladybug was on to something - though I would go through all nine of my lives before telling her. Sitting up a bit, I checked the time and then leaped into the air again, determined to salvage some part of my day off.

The rooftop in question overlooked a lush park on the northwestern corner of Paris, and was angled just enough that an overgrown feline could soak up the rays for the better part of a morning before the sun shifted. Landing on the tile at long last, though, I found I was quite thoroughly exhausted from slinging my way across the city; my entire upper torso felt like it was on fire, having used a completely different set of muscles than I was accustomed to. Adding insult to injury, not only did my aching body make it nearly impossible to get into a comfortable napping posture, my bug super-suit didn’t seem capable of creating the delicious warmth I was used to experiencing as Chat.

Twenty minutes in, I was tired, grumpy and aching - and no longer in the mood to be a superhero at leisure. Gaming back at the mansion seemed far more appealing, though the journey back not so much. Peering over the edge of the rooftop, I spied a Metro stop and gave serious thought to transforming back to Adrien and taking a more pedestrian trip back before remembering _what_ I’d been wearing before becoming Mister Bug. 

Of all the days…

Sighing, and resigned to needing a half-bottle of ibuprofen when this was all over, I snapped the yo-yo from my hip and started to look for my first item to snag when movement from below caught my attention. Turning my masked eyes back to the Metro stop, I saw Marinette coming up the steps with her backpack and artbook; holding a glove to the sun, I realized the morning light was nearly perfect for the kind of outdoor sketching my friend enjoyed. Latent feline curiosity piqued, I redirected my path and sailed into the park proper, keeping a discrete distance from Marinette as she slowly sought just the right spot to set up.

Chat Noir was a regular nocturnal visitor at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, though on a few occasions I had come across her sketching in various places throughout Paris while out and about myself. While I had no end of chiding from Ladybug at my predilection to stay transformed, Marinette always seemed genuinely happy to see me when I appeared - though normally I didn’t stalk her as I was well aware I was currently doing.

Landing in a tall tree, I shifted the branches and watched as she settled in on a park bench a few meters from my perch. Unzipping her backpack, she carefully placed her pencils and charcoals close at hand, and then flipped open her oversized sketchbook. Snaking a pencil out of the case, I saw a smile play at her lips.

“Come on down, Chat,” she said softly.

Flipping out of the tree, I landed just in front of her bench in what would have been a traditional cat-crouch, thankful I still had _some_ acrobatic abilities left. “Not very stealthy in red, am I?”

“Not in the least,” she chuckled. “What happened to the tail and ears?” Marinette asked as she appraised my new threads.

“Ladybug’s idea,” I said as I stood, noting that Marinette’s eyes snapped to my midsection. Glancing down, I found with some shock that _this_ version of the costume was a bit more revealing of the muscles the Chat costume normally hid. Feeling my face flame slightly, I quickly slid onto the bench beside her and casually crossed my legs before draping my arm along the back. “We’re temporarily swapping our Miraculous so we can become comfortable in either guise.”

“That sounds wise,” Marinette smiled as she started work on her page.

“Per usual from Milady,” I said honestly. “I can’t say I’m overly thrilled with the prospect of being stuck in red-and-black polka dots, but if this morning is any indicator, I defelinely need more time with the yo-yo.”

Marinette snorted. “And yet, still with the cat puns.”

I smiled. “It’s a hard habit to quit. Besides, do you know how difficult it is to change your frame of reference? Buggy puns aren’t happening anytime soon.”

“Really?” Marinette asked, turning to look at me. Brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail, her eyes scanned my masked ones. “I would think changing your frame of reference was the whole point of this exercise.”

“I suppose--”

“Hold that thought,” Marinette said, “and close your eyes.”

“Say what?” I asked, my masked brow furrowing.

“I want to show you something,” she smiled, “but I need to get it ready. Close your eyes.”

Curious once more, I smiled and did as she asked. Even without my superior feline ears, it was easy to hear that Marinette had started to sketch with abandon; broad strokes whispered across the paper, followed by short, staccato ones; a little rubbing and I realized she was using her charcoal to shade in something. As she continued to sketch, I started to hear the space around me as well; I’d really not been Mister Bug long enough to experience what the sensory enhancements would be, and as I caught wind of an unusual fragrance, my brain immediately popped up with an image of a gorgeous snapdragon.

_How is that possible?_ I thought. _I’ve never even_ seen _one in person!_

Sniffing, I realized I knew exactly how many meters away the flower was, and that there was a lavender bush three meters to the side. Listening intently, I detected the approach of a hummingbird toward the bird of paradise that was potted next to our bench; the high thrumming of its wings, followed by the slight slurping noise its tongue made going after the nectar floored me. As a cat, my senses had been augmented from a predator’s perspective - strength, stamina, smell, sight: all were needed to take down prey, or in my case, the villain-of-the-day. 

Ladybug seemed to be plugged into the environment on a much more visceral level, for the longer I sat there, the more I knew about my surroundings. I could _taste_ the humidity content in the air, and also the nearest source of freshwater (there was a fountain sixteen meters to my right). The gentle pressure against the fabric of my costume was so granular, I could _feel_ the air mass around me, a precursor to the gentle breeze that passed over us and ruffled both my wild mane and the branches of the tree above us.

While we were alone on the particular path Marinette had chosen, the vibrations I could feel in my feet told me there were pedestrians not far from us, but were moving away; deliberately, I focused a bit more and found I could nearly pick up some critter hiding below the bush - maybe a squirrel? 

I felt myself smiling, for suddenly a massive piece of the puzzle fell into place for me. Long had I witnessed Ladybug scanning for clues to her Lucky Charm, assuming it was the first act prior to calling on her special magic. Now I understood it was the _final_ act, done long after she had carefully catalogued the world around her.

“Wow,” I said softly and could feel a slight tear of joy forming. “This is so… amazing. I had no idea.”

“And now you do?” Marinette asked carefully. I was so wrapped up in my own bubble I’d not heard her stop sketching.

“Yes,” I replied. “I always knew Ladybug was special… but the actual power of creation that’s at her disposal is so fine…” My eyes snapped open and I looked at Marinette, who was smiling at me. “Creation has a much broader definition, doesn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she smiled wider. “Feels like you do, though.” Looking at me carefully, she reached up and wiped away the single tear. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I nodded, so full of wellbeing it was hard to quantify. “Yes, I think I am.”

I never did get to see what Marinette was sketching; we spent a few more minutes chatting before she packed up to head home, the light having shifted enough that she’d missed the opportunity she had been looking for. Thinking I’d messed her up with my interruption, she’d only smiled at me and said, simply, “I always have time for my friends. There will be another sunny morning; there might not be another moment of discovery like the one we shared today.”

“Still--”

“No apologies,” she said, smiling wider. “We have to seize those precious moments when they come.”

Still feeling pleasantly at peace, I’d headed back to the mansion. The trip back was easier than the one out, with the yo-yo feeling more natural in my hands, especially now that I was allowing my enhanced bug senses to locate prime anchor points for the magical device. I had barely landed in the open window of my bathroom when the bug phone buzzed.

Flipping it open, Lady Noire was smiling at me. “Hey, kitty. I felt badly this morning after we talked. Look, if you want to cut this trial a little short, we can try again in a few weeks for a longer period.”

Grinning, I shook my head. “Tired of Plagg already, Milady?”

“No,” she said. “Though you could have warned me how much of a curmudgeon he is.”

“The stories I could tell,” I laughed. “But seriously, I’m fine. You were right to ask to do this,” I continued, going serious. “I always knew how special you were, LB. Now I have the proof.”

Looking a little confused, Lady Noire smiled slightly. “What’s gotten into you, Chat?”

“Perspective,” I said simply. “See you tonight?”

“Of course,” she nodded and the image winked out.

I snapped the yo-yo shut and leaned against the wall, finally understanding the gift that Marinette had provided that morning. And just how special she was; smiling to myself, I found myself looking forward to the evening - not the meetup with Ladybug, particularly, but the after-patrol visit I generally made to the Bakery. The morning in the park had opened my feline eyes - or bug eyes, as the case may be - to another perspective my heart had long known was _already_ there. 

The afternoon couldn’t go by fast enough.


	13. Flower Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: Yeah. I have no excuses for this one. Sorry. Nobody dies, though..._
> 
> _Lyra: I can’t even think of a good comeback for that….. What have you done?? My poor babies._
> 
> _Ep: Well, I knew tulips would have to appear at some point. And the Broadway song-and-dance number… oh, wait, this isn’t the Ball prompt, is it? Can someone direct me to the right chapter? I seem to be lost…_

After defeating the akuma, Ladybug was heading back towards College Francoise Dupont via a circuitous route. She always tried to make sure that nobody was following her, including her partner. She checked all around before landing in an alley near the school. Whispered words had her transformation slithering off of her in a flash of pink. 

On the school roof, Chat Noir was about to drop his transformation, when he saw a flash of pink from a nearby alley. Watching intently, knowing that he might be getting a glimpse of Ladybug, at the last moment, his conscience caught up with him, and he slammed his eyelids closed. The faintest glimpse he got of midnight blue pigtails, and white floral shirt, before his eyelids sealed out the light had them flying right back open. 

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng._ Now that he saw her, he felt very little surprise. Of _course_ she would be Ladybug. He watched as she glanced around from the entrance of the alleyway before ducking into her parent’s bakery, emerging a few minutes later with a massive bag of pastries. Looking both ways, she ran across the street to the school. 

Adrien, for by this point his own transformation had dropped, watched her until she entered the school, before realizing he probably should be joining her. He hurried down the stairs to his classroom, wondering what he was going to say to Marinette when he saw her. It turned out that all he had a chance to say was “Thank you,” as she shyly offered him a pastry from the bag she held out to him, before she turned to the next student through the door. 

He didn’t get the chance to catch her after school either, his bodyguard hurrying him along out the door. It wasn’t until that evening that he could even begin to plan. Adrien was afraid that Ladybug would be furious with him for discovering her identity, and he didn’t really want to face her wrath. Deciding that it would be best to approach Marinette, Adrien made a plan to visit her as Chat later that evening.

As he danced along the rooftops as only Chat Noir could, he saw some brightly colored flowers winking up at him from a flower seller. He had gathered a handful before realizing he had no money in his magical kwami clothes, but the florist just smiled and waved him off. Clutching the flower crown of red tulips in one hand, and his baton in the other, Chat Noir made way to the balcony at the top of the bakery, his own crown of white blossoms looped jauntily over one ear. 

Marinette heard the thump on the roof of her bedroom. It wasn’t often that Chat Noir came to visit her, and this was the first time she hadn’t been out on the balcony when he stopped by. She hurried up to greet him, afraid that something was wrong, but the moment he heard the trapdoor open, he stopped his nervous pacing, and spun to face her, the fistful of woven tulips thrust out in front of him. 

Staring at him in utter confusion, Marinette’s face drew into worried lines. “What’s going on, Chat Noir? Is everything alright? Do you need me to help out again?”

Shaking his head, although Marinette wasn’t sure if he was negating her statement, or simply clearing his head, Chat proffered the flowers to her once again. “We’ve known each other for a while now, haven’t we, Marinette?”

She frowned as she accepted the flowers. “You’ve saved me a couple of times. And I did get to be Multimouse once.”

Chat frowned at her, but then smiled as he realized that while he knew her identity, she either truly didn’t know his, or was an excellent actress. “Marinette,” he reached for her hand, smile stretching across his face. “I know that you’re Ladybug. I saw you de-transform this afternoon. I swear it was an accident.” He hastened to add, with only a niggle of guilt in his mind. “But now I can show you who I am, and then we can be together!”

Marinette’s expression took on a pained look, and her eyes left her partner’s face to look at the ground. “Chat, you know I love someone else.” The knuckles on the hand clutching the tulips were starting to go white. 

“But Marinette. I love you. I’m never gonna give you up!”

Her head shook sadly.

“Ladybug,” he whispered, “I’m never gonna let you down. I know you hate the flirting during the akuma fights, but I can tone it down, I swear. I’m never gonna run around and desert you.”

Marinette’s head whipped around to stare at him. “Chat, NO!” A tear slid down her cheek. 

Reaching out to wipe it away, Chat said sadly. “Never gonna make you cry.”

However, before he could continue Marinette cut him off. He wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying, but her voice was low and dangerous as she pointed her finger into the night. “You need to leave, now.”

“I’m never gonna say goodbye.”

As he leaped onto the railing and into the night, he broke into song for the last line, “Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!”

As the string of epithets followed him into the Paris night, Chat beelined for the Agreste Mansion and dropped his transformation, tossing Plagg a piece of cheese as he flopped back onto his bed. “Well, at least she isn’t mad about me finding out her identity.”

Adrien sighed happily. And if Ladybug pushed Chat Noir off the Eiffel Tower during their next patrol… it was still worth it. 


	14. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Aware that Chat has conflicted feelings about Ladybug after the Miracle Queen battle, Marinette wonders how to cheer him up - and get him to look elsewhere for love. Unbeknownst to her, Adrien knows something is off with his friend Marinette and decides Chat is the best feline to get to the bottom of what’s wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ep: Technically, this story takes place prior to_ Can I Borrow Your Miraculous _and after_ Bell _, but I didn’t know that until I started to write it. If you want, Bunnix can reverse time for you so you can read these in order…_
> 
> _MR: No thanks… I have no wish to live through yesterday’s story again! (Unless you’re gonna fall for it again… then by all means…)_
> 
> _Lyra: Time travel sounds like it is too much work. I can barely keep the days straight already._

Chat Noir didn’t make a habit of sleeping while transformed; while he did enjoy the occasional catnap in various sun-dappled nooks he had found during his prowls about Paris, he was nonetheless cognizant of the already extensive demands he made on Plagg and assumed anything more would require an in-kind contribution of super-expensive camembert. Not that he couldn’t afford to spoil his kwami; rather, he didn’t especially enjoy how grumpy Plagg would become when he was cooped up inside the ring for hours on end. And who could blame him?

Still, as he yawned and started to blink the sleep from his masked eyes, he found himself thinking it was an inexpensive price to pay on both counts, for as a feline, the pleasantly comfortable feeling the transition from slumber to wakefulness often provided was accentuated a thousandfold. Chat found himself purring out of pure joy, and started to stretch out the kinks -- and discovered he was somewhat immobilized. 

Shocked into full wakefulness, memory returned with a vengeance, reminding the cat-themed hero he’d skipped out on a full day of obligations as Adrien so he could visit with his friend, Marinette; she’d not seemed like herself at school, and Chat was the best option in his limited toolkit to get the raven-haired girl to open up. He’d planned on a quick catnap in a purrfectly sunny spot on the Bakery’s rooftop patio before speaking with her, but through an odd series of events, he’d wound up on the chaise lounge in her bedroom wearing earmuffs and tightly wrapped in a blanket.

Marinette had done a fine job of swaddling him in the cute red blanket she used, and he’d been so tired at the time he’d not really thought twice about it. Now, as he attempted to free himself, Chat flushed slightly as he realized the nature of his current predicament. Not only was he still wrapped in the blanket, but Marinette herself had snuggled around him, with one arm draped over his chest. Her head was just behind his, allowing each breath to tickle the very edges of a feline ear - a sensation that, if left to continue, would slowly drive him to distraction.

Shifting slightly didn’t net him more than a few centimeters; stretching a leg freed a booted toe but nothing more. Tensing a paw resulted in his claws piercing the blanket and ripping four long holes in the fabric, causing him to groan in dismay. For he was fairly certain he’d trashed Marinette’s rooftop patio in his futile attempt to find the bell that had forestalled his earlier attempt at catnapping; he added the blanket to his tally sheet of items his alter ego would somehow figure out how to quietly replace. 

“Chat?”

Her voice was muffled but only for a moment; swiftly, the earmuffs were lifted from his mane as Marinette easily rolled away from him. Freed from the constraints of the blanket, Chat’s lithe form slipped down onto the floor where he folded himself into his cat-stance. “Princess,” he said softly, his masked eyes on the torn blanket. “I’m apparently not housebroken. I owe you a blanket.”

“It depends,” Marinette said with a smile as she pulled the blanket from the chaise. “How well did you sleep?”

“Very well,” he said honestly as he pulled out his baton; Marinette tried not to laugh when his ears went straight up as he saw the time. “Wow,” Chat breathed. “I missed breakfast _and_ lunch.”

“Then it was worth it. I think you needed the rest,” Marinette replied, adding to herself, _as did I_. “Wait - did you say you missed breakfast?”

Chat flushed again. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, not by design,” he added softly, his eyes darting away from her and a paw reaching for the back of his neck. She’d always found that move particularly endearing, “I may or may not have hoped to score something as a result of my visit.”

Smile quirking at her lips, and knowing full well that her kitty had a bottomless stomach _especially_ when visiting the bakery, she nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sure we have something down in the kitchen. Any requests?” she asked as she moved to the trapdoor.

“Pass--croquettes, I mean,” Chat started and then corrected, knowing he’d been about to request _Adrien’s_ favorite treat.

“All right,” Marinette replied. “Try not to rip up the curtains while I’m rustling up something.”

“Hah hah,” Chat intoned, rolling his eyes. He didn’t wait long, for Marinette swiftly returned with a small tray of goodies his feline sense of smell easily identified. His masked eyes widened. “Chocolate?”

Marinette shook her head. “I forget your sense of smell,” she laughed as she pulled the napkin away to reveal an amazing array of goods. “Ham and cheese croquettes, fresh from the oven and two chocolate croissants for after.”

Tail flicking with anticipation, Chat’s eyes met hers. “I think I am in love.”

“You’d be foolish not to be,” Marinette laughed, though she was a bit conflicted at the joke knowing as she did Chat’s feelings for her alter ego.

His masked eyes eagerly went to the tray again, and he tentatively reached out a paw to retrieve a morsel. As he popped it into his mouth, he smiled. “Wonderful,” he purred as he reached for another.

“I’ll tell my father - he’s the one who made them.”

Chat nodded, then caught her eyes again. “Mari,” he said carefully, “is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” she asked, wondering why Chat had shifted topics.

Smiling crookedly around a mouthful - she’d not paid attention to how quickly he’d decimated the tray - he answered. “Cats are perceptive. You are giving off waves of worry.”

Long used to Chat’s empathetic tendencies, she nonetheless had never had them trained upon her and was somewhat shocked at how easily he had hit the nail on the head. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said unconvincingly.

Chat paused, mid-chew. “Seriously?” he sighed. “I mean, you don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. But I’d figure a stranger in a mask is a better option for keeping secrets than, oh, a best friend, say.”

Marinette smiled slightly. “You’re not exactly a stranger, Chat.”

“A metaphor, then. And an apt one.” He smiled fully. “And I have more ears to lend than most.”

_That_ made her smile. “True enough.”

Chat paused, his eyes firmly planted on the chocolate croissant. 

“Go ahead,” she laughed as she took one and handed him the other.

Tearing off a corner of the flaky pastry, Chat considered his friend. “Whatever this burden is you now labor under, I am here for you, Marinette. Maybe I can’t ease it completely, maybe I can; that part is up to you. But I consider you a friend - an amazingly wonderful one at that - and I… I just wanted you to know that.”

Marinette looked at her partner. “That’s kind of you, kitty. But really--”

“I get it,” he smiled, a bit sadly. “I’m used to people keeping secrets from me,” he added as he dusted a handful of crumbs from the front of his costume and then stood. “I should go,” he said softly. “Thank you for the treats.”

As he started up the ladder to the skylight, he felt a gentle tug on his tail. “Chat, wait,” Marinette said.

Pausing on the top rung, he turned his masked eyes on her expectantly.

“I… recently took on some larger responsibilities,” she started.

“Here at the Bakery?” he asked.

Unconsciously, Marinette glanced toward her knitting basket; she was startled when Chat dropped down beside her. “Ah,” he said with a knowing smile, “I wondered if that was the case.”

Eyes wider, Marinette stared at Chat. “The… case?”

Arching a masked eyebrow at her, he stepped over toward her sewing table, sending a burst of panic through her veins. “A designer of your talents _has_ to be in high demand,” he said simply. “You’re burning the candle at both ends, aren’t you?”

She nodded, relaxing slightly. “You could say that,” she agreed. “And it’s catching up to me. I know it is; I’ve been so busy with the… responsibility… I know I’ve let people down.”

Chat moved to her side in a blink and held her arm. “You could never do that, Princess. Ever.”

Marinette felt the warmth of his compassion and certainty in the simple touch of his paw against her arm, and was taken aback slightly. “That’s very kind of you, Chat.”

“I do have to go,” he said. “But I’ll be back more regularly if you’ll let me. Even if you can’t tell me all of what is going on, sometimes just having a cat around the house will calm you down.”

Marinette laughed - it was such a Chat sentiment. “You are welcome any time,” she said as she watched him bound back up the steps to the skylight.

“Later, then,” he smiled again as he whisked through the skylight and was gone.

Only when he was safely several kilometers on the far side of the city did Chat Noir finally drop out of the sky on an unremarkable roof. There, and only there, crouched in the late afternoon sunshine, did he allow himself to think through the significance of the ladybug-themed Miracle Box he’d spied nestled among the other sewing supplies in Marinette’s bedroom.

“I am here for you, Mari,” he said on the wind, hoping she could hear his whisper. “I always have been, and always will be… that is my promise…”


	15. Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: No death, no tricks… how's anyone gonna know I wrote this?_

“I have a girlfriend.”

Marinette sat there blinking blearily up at Chat Noir. It was two o’clock in the morning, and he had woken her up when he landed on her rooftop refuge. She’d fallen asleep in her lounge chair while designing and dragged a blanket up over her body. 

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she looked at her friend as he drooped over the railing. He looked like someone who had just broken up with his girlfriend, rather than someone who was announcing that he’s just found the love of his life. 

“Well, I think I have a girlfriend.”

At that, Marinette’s eyebrows shot up and she looked a little more awake. “You _think_ you have a girlfriend?”

Chat nodded. “As my civilian self. Not as Chat. I’m not sure what happened.”

As in you’re not sure how she became your girlfriend, or you aren’t sure if she is still your girlfriend?”

He finally turned to face her. “It’s so complicated. I’m in love with Ladybug, and I’m not sure that will ever change. I did ask her out once. We double dated with a friend and her boyfriend, but that was months ago. The other day, out of the blue, we were at this thing that our parents had forced us to go to, and we were hanging out together, just the two of us after our other friend left, and she tried to kiss me.”

“Do you like her?”

He looked confused. “She’s my friend. Of course I like her.” 

“I meant as more than a friend, Chat. Is she someone you could see yourself dating?”

The look of confusion fell from Chat’s face. “Maybe? I mean there are a lot of things I admire about her. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of Ladybug. She’s strong and confident, but honestly, I just feel guilty, because she’s not Ladybug.”

Marinette closed her eyes to gather her patience. “Does Ladybug love you?”

Wilting under the question, Chat shook his head. “She says that she doesn’t. But I can’t believe that. We are creation and destruction, yin and yang, two sides of a whole. We belong together. I know that she doesn’t see it now, but I can be patient. After Hawkmoth is defeated, we can share our personal lives, and then we can be together.”

Marinette stood and walked to the railing where Chat was leaning and touched his forearm. “Chat, people aren’t destined for anyone. May she come to love you one day? Sure. It could happen, but she’s not required to. Have you ever had anyone claim you as theirs? Say that you are meant to be together? Does that make it true?”

Thinking of Chloe, Chat shook his head, then nodded, then shook it again, sighing. “I’ve had people in my daily life claim I’m theirs. And you’re right. It doesn’t mean I belong to them, but the miraculous isn’t involved there.”

Marinette frowned. “And if it was? What if for some reason Ladybug couldn’t be Ladybug any more. What if she gave it to me? We both know you aren’t in love with me.” Grinning, she elbowed Chat, prompting him to shoot her a dirty look. “But what if I became the new Ladybug. Now we’re connected by the miraculous. Would _we_ suddenly be destined to be together?”

Chat cocked his head, studying his friend closely. “Well, no. I mean no offense, you’re a really good friend, but you wouldn’t be _my_ Ladybug.” He stood, deep in thought for a moment, and Marinette let him, looking out over the railing at the lights of the city beyond. 

Several long minutes later, Chat raised his eyes to her face. Turning to look at him, Marinette continued to wait patiently. “I guess I see us as being connected because not only do our miraculous balance, but we received them at the same time. You’re right though. We aren’t destined. I think that’s what Ladybug has been trying to tell me for a long time.”

He looked so heartbroken that Marinette wrapped her arms around him, engulfing him in a hug. “But, isn’t that a good thing? It doesn’t mean you have to stop loving Ladybug, it just means that you get to choose to love her.” Chat’s features lit up but then fell again as Marinette continued. “It does mean that Ladybug gets to choose who she loves, too. And that may or may not be you. That doesn’t mean that you aren’t connected, or can’t ever be together.”

Chewing this over as he stepped back from her, Chat circled back to his original concern. “So, I might have a girlfriend…” He trailed off, not really sure what else he really wanted to say.

“I understand that you feel guilty because you still love Ladybug, even though you may not be destined, feelings aren’t that easy to turn off. Be honest with this girl. If you want to try being with her, that’s awesome, but don’t string her along.”

Chat smiled at her, a genuine smile, that had more joy in it than anything he’d offered her since he arrived. “Thank you, Marinette. I appreciate your advice.” He gave her a quick hug before launching himself into the night. He didn’t head home but sat on his favorite rooftop to think, and smiled up at the sky. He still wasn’t sure what to do about Kagami, but he knew that he had a good friend in Marinette that he could always talk to, and for Chat Noir, but even more, for Adrien, a good friend was worth a million times more than all the riches his father owned. 


	16. Do Not Disturb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _As Marinette struggles a little with the realization of aging, Chat takes a stolen moment to remind her that he likes her just the way she is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _MR: This is so sweet. A nice reminder that even as we get older we are still beautiful. And that apple juice is evil._
> 
> _Lyra: Apple Juice is the bane of my existence. That and doors that don’t lock….._
> 
> _Ep: ...except for the door to your car. When the keys are inside. What is it with that?_

In silence, Marinette studied the shape of herself reflecting back in the mirror, trying to ignore the small streaks of silver that twinkled in her dark hair and the crinkled corners of her eyes. Her hands ran down the soft curves of her stomach as she watched her reflection in the mirror, the familiar ripples and scars of stretch marks and the softness of time having changed her. Age changes everyone, she chided herself, sighing softly.

She didn’t hate her body, exactly. Adrien always called her beautiful, even if she didn’t really feel like she was. Sometimes, however, it felt like she was living in the body of a stranger. Memories of life not that long ago often replaced the reality of herself in the mirror. Once upon a time, she wore a skin-tight spandex-like supersuit to protect and save Paris. Now, she rocked the mommy fashion world of jeans and t-shirts and mom-buns.

Turning away with a sigh, she coiled her towel back around her body before taking one last glance. Green eyes reflecting behind her made her heart race with surprise. Jumping to face the intruder, she laughed sharply to find her husband leaning casually against the bathroom door, donned in his familiar costume. 

“Purr-fection,” he murmured, eyes twinkling as he studied the very reflection that she had been evaluating. Of course age had been kind to him - the gold of his hair still brilliant, the features of his face sharpened with maturity into an ethereal kind of breathtaking beauty, and a body that a twenty-something would be jealous of. And to think - he belonged to her. 

“Hello, kitty. What are you doing here? Have you seen Adrien anywhere?” 

The smirk on his face matched the mischief she read in his eyes only a second before he scooped her into his arms with a resounding kiss that left her gasping for air. 

When he pulled away, she caught a glimpse of a familiar troublemaker gleam before he made three long strides across the room and deposited her on their bed. She squeaked a little at the bounce, laughing while clutching the towel tighter around her. 

"Stay." His order felt anything but threatening - but it could have been the cat ears that made it hard to take him seriously. The door to their bedroom clicked shut. "Do not disturb." 

She could hear his purr from where she sat, flushed and giggling as he wiggled his eyebrows, striding towards her with an exaggerated stroll, tail twirling between his fingers. 

"Plagg is going to be so cheesed about this," she said, knowing full well how her punning attempts affected the man behind the mask. He practically glowed with pleasure. 

"Paw-sitively!" He leaned in close, breath tickling her face. "But it is worth every wheel of camembert that I have to pay the little monster." 

She melted at the kiss he pressed against her lips, fingers letting go of her protective towel to tangle into his hair. Even as a cat, Adrien knew exactly how to make her feel special. Somehow, he made her feel as beautiful as their wedding day every time he looked at her with that smoulder in his eyes and his fingers ran across the very same marks that made her feel worn. 

"I love you, my beautiful Princess," he purred in her ear.

"I love you, too, my kitty," she responded, leaning in for the more that he willingly offered. 

"Mama?" 

The sound of a small voice made them jump apart, Marinette frantically clasping the slipped towel tightly around herself before turning to stare the dark-haired child at the bedside with some sense of horror. 

"Why are you dressed like Chat Noir?" the little voice questioned her father with a tilt of her head that imitated him in a shockingly identical way. 

Chat's hand flew to the back of his neck, a defense mechanism at best, words spluttering at the simple question. 

Forcing herself to think past the fact her daughter had wandered in unheard in such a moment, to ignore the flaming red of her cheeks, she held onto her towel more tightly as she got to her feet. Silver eyes turned her way, innocence intact. 

"I want more apple juice, please, Mama." The sing-song request was followed by happy skipping out the bedroom door and down the hall. 

Chat looked thoroughly panicked from where he stood still awkwardly frozen. Stretching up on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

"She will learn to read soon. Then you can make a Do Not Disturb sign to hang on the door." He made a cough in response. 

"Claws in," he murmured, the green light of his transformation flashing quickly. Plagg hissed as he zipped out of the room with grumbled words. 

"I'll get her the apple juice," he offered. 

With a grin, she dropped the towel and stepped towards the closet. "Sounds good. We will continue this conversation later." 

His groan was worth every single silver streak on her hair, laughter filling her soul with more than any moment of youth ever could. 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	17. Balcony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s a bittersweet moment when Chat meets up with Marinette for the final time on her rooftop balcony._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: Yay! I finally get to kill something. Do I win a prize?_
> 
> _Lyra: What did you kill? The moment? Congratulations! You win this day-old chocolate croissant!_
> 
> _MR: My heart! My heart! He killed my ~~brain~~ heart!_

It was with mixed emotions that I landed on my favorite chimney flue at the Dupain-Cheng Bakery. Much as it had been all of those years earlier when I first perched atop the conical metal contraption, the moon was full and just rising over the Seine, blotting out what stars were visible on a normal evening. The wind ruffled my mane and I squinted against the breeze; a quick sniff told me rain was coming, not that it mattered. My hair would be the only casualty in a deluge, the water able to roll off my costume without a second thought.

Delectable scents were wafting up through the chimney, and I couldn’t help the Pavlovian mouth-watering response followed by a rumble from my perennially hungry stomach. Marinette had long teased me that I only visited for her baked goods, and while that was somewhat true, she had always been the main attraction on so many levels. My masked eyes flicked down to the rooftop balcony patio, and the first wave of sadness washed over me; the fairy lights had been removed, and the chaise lounge where I had spent more hours than I could count was similarly missing. Even the bonsai tree, long a mainstay of the space, was gone.

The space felt barren, as empty as a desert wasteland.

While I didn’t hold to a specific schedule for my visits, I could be counted upon to appear most evenings well after dinner. Some nights would be later, especially if it had been a patrol evening or, worse, an akuma attack. Marinette had fallen into a habit of being on the balcony, usually with a variety of snacks for her feline visitor. Tonight, though, she was absent, making the space even less welcoming.

I hesitated, for normally I wouldn’t move down to the actual balcony without her being present. Cocking my head slightly, I strained my feline hearing to the limit but couldn’t divine if Marinette was close at hand. Sniffing again, though, my feline nose picked up a different source of deliciousness, and caved into my instincts. Leaping down, I landed on the balcony railing, then slid off into a standing position, carefully searching for the source of goodness.

I’d missed the small checked cloth that had been laid out at the edge of the patio, up against the forward railing. A large platter piled high with an unimaginable variety of goodies was in the center, with a small carafe of coffee and two cups off to the side. It seemed like a beacon of welcome, and I moved around to the side facing the skylight to drop into my patient cat stance. The gentle breeze freshened a bit, flipping up an edge to the cloth; pressing it back down, my feline eyes spied an envelope that had been hidden beneath it, watching as it started to slide across the tiles.

One word had been written on the outside: _Chat_.

I flicked my masked eyes to the skylight, and frowned as my lithe form dove over the tablecloth and snatched up the heavy white paper in a paw before it could slide further across the tile roof. Holding it in one paw while laying on my stomach, I couldn’t deny my feline curiosity wanted to know what was inside. Tail flapping back and forth, I stared at the tiny envelope, just centimeters away from a clawtip that could slice the---

“Chat?”

Turning my mane sideways, I grinned sheepishly as Marinette emerged from the skylight, another platter of baked goods balanced on her hand. “Hey, Princess,” I said. “Uh, this isn’t what it looks like…”

Arching one of those beautiful eyebrows at me, she put a free hand on her hip as she paused at the edge of the skylight. “And that would be?”

Clearing my throat, I flipped to my side and carefully leaned my head against my paw. “You could be forgiven for thinking I was going to open this without you,” I said, waving the envelope at her. “I’ll have you know, this poor, defenseless envelope was floating away toward certain doom when I rescued it.”

“Uh huh,” she said as she continued to me and then sat down just out of reach. 

I looked at her deep blue eyes and fell in love for the millionth time; her exotic scent, so evocative of the bakery she’d grown up in, filled my senses and I just smiled at her. “Are those for me?” I asked innocently as I flipped up and brushed up against her on all fours. 

“Not _all_ of them,” she laughed as she pushed me away.

That only encouraged my attention, and I leaned my full mane into her, purring loudly.

“Hey!” she cried as I knocked her off-balance; in a flash, I had her wrapped safely in my paws up against my costumed chest. “Well,” she sighed as she twisted around to kiss my chin. “This isn’t exactly how I’d envisioned things, but I can’t dispute how cozy it is to be wrapped in a Chat blanket.”

“I am a full service feline,” I purred as I hugged her close for a moment.

“I won’t argue with that, kitty,” she laughed as she wriggled out and slid over to one corner of the tablecloth. My masked eyes watched her carefully, especially the way she flipped her long hair over her shoulder before turning those delightfully dancing eyes on me. “You have amazing willpower this evening, Chat,” she observed, nodding toward the so far untouched pastry bonanza, and then glancing at the envelope. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve matured in my old age,” I laughed as I folded myself back into a seated cat position beside her, just close enough that my tail could sneak it’s way around her waist. My wide feline eyes fell upon the envelope again. “And I don’t want this to end.”

Marinette leaned over and put her head against my shoulder. “All things change with time, Chat. Of all people, you should know that.”

I sighed as I closed my eyes and just absorbed the moment. “I do. I truly do. I just never realized how fast time would fly.”

I felt Marinette nod. “Go ahead and open the card then.”

I leaned away from Mari and carefully slit the envelope with a claw. Inside the small envelope was a beautifully ornate - and hand done - card; the outside held a single rose, vibrant red with a long, thin, green stem, evoking all of the poor offerings I had made to Ladybug over the years. I could feel my face flame slightly at the collective memory of my attempts to woo my partner, and of how badly it had gone in the early days. 

My feline eyes flicked up to Marinette as I opened the card and then looked down. Several lines of text had been carefully inscribed on the inner portion of the card, facing a small sketch of a certain feline sitting atop a railing, looking up at the moon; I smiled, for Marinette had captured that first night I’d appeared in this very spot at Chat. “This is beautiful,” I breathed as I turned to the text.

> _Eyes of green that stole my heart,_
> 
> _Feline ears that helped sell the part._
> 
> _Bell to ring when I am near,_
> 
> _With you around I have nothing to fear._
> 
> _Partners for life, I’ll never be alone;_
> 
> _You’re the only kitty I’d ever take home._
> 
> _\--M_

Blinking back tears, I carefully put the card back into the envelope before snagging Marinette into a big hug once more. “Wow,” was all I could say.

“Happy anniversary, kitty,” Marinette smiled as she kissed me. “Hard to believe we’ve been married ten years today, isn’t it?”

“Harder to believe we have kittens,” I sighed happily. “And even _harder_ to believe your parents are moving the Bakery. We have so many memories in this space.”

“True,” Marinette agreed. “We’ll make some new ones, though; I feel obligated to point out our new townhouse has an even _bigger_ rooftop balcony, thanks to you, Mister Moneybags.”

I waggled a clawtip. “That wasn’t all me. It was _your_ design that melted down the market this year. The success of House of Dupain-Agreste is all yours, Milady.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Kitty, we agreed--”

“Oops,” I laughed. “I forgot who I was talking to. Besides, you’re the one that _made_ me transform for tonight.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s hard keeping you _from_ transforming in the first place. I half expect to find Chat Noir behind the desk at the office each morning.”

“You may yet,” I smiled as I brushed back a lock of her hair. “I am so amazingly lucky to have found you, Princess. I will always think of this rooftop when I think of us.”

“Me, too,” Marinette smiled as she leaned into me once more. “Come on, kitty, eat up; we’ve got to rescue my parents so they can finish packing. Grandchildren aren’t conducive to the process.”

Reaching for the last set of passionfruit macarons to ever be made at this location, I smiled. “Knowing your parents, they wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“True,” Marinette laughed. “Very true.”


	18. Banana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyra: What is it with these two and their need to constantly take care of each other / make each other happy?_
> 
> _Ep: It’s why the rest of us love them sooooooo much._
> 
> _Note: This story takes place shortly after the episode “Feast.”_

Marinette wandered aimlessly through the streets of Paris lost in thoughts of the conversation from Master Fu. The idea of becoming the Guardian felt strange, overwhelming, and somewhat exciting. The pressure of responsibility weighed on her shoulders. Protecting the miracle box and all the Miraculous from the hands of Hawkmoth (or any other future villain) felt impossibly heavy. From her place in Marinette’s purse, even Tikki seemed to appreciate the time to think. 

“Hey,” called a voice from above her, jerking Marinette’s attention up to see Chat Noir peeking over the edge of the roof to look at her. “”Everything ok?” A quick movement flipped him over the lip and onto the pavement with a graceful landing. 

“It looked like something is bothering you.” He leaned in with a concerned look, seemingly mindless of her personal space. She just blinked, wondering how exactly her kitty knew her so well that he could see the heaviness on her even when she was outside her suit. 

“Just a lot of things going on. What are you doing here, Chat Noir? Is there an akuma?” Making exaggerated motions, she pretended to look around the street as if she were searching for an akuma, knowing full-well they were akuma free. He responded by rubbing his neck, tilting out of her space with awkward grin - as if she’d caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“No, no. No akuma. I’m just - uh - patrolling, and saw you looking down.” 

She couldn’t help the small smile that turned up the corners of her lips. Silly cat was out running for no reason at all. She knew he loved his superhero life - the casual mentions of how much it offered him freedom having filtered through enough of their conversations to appreciate the fact he was running the rooftops in the middle of the day. 

“Do you need some cheering up?” 

The way that his ears perked up and his eyes lit up broke through the thickness of pressure. 

“Sure.” 

The word was barely out of her mouth before he scooped her up and jumped to the roof, making her gasp in surprise. Gently standing her on the flat section of the roof, he motioned towards a bench. 

“Sit there. I’ll be right back.” 

And he was gone. 

“What’s he doing?” piped up Tikki from her hiding spot. Marinette shrugged, wondering what exactly her cat was planning. Making herself comfortable on the bench hidden on the quiet rooftop, she took a few deep breaths, trying to let the stress of the earlier conversation slide off her shoulders. 

It wasn’t long until Chat came bounding back, hands full of ice cream cones. 

“I wasn’t completely sure what flavour you would like, but André insisted this would be the one.” Thrusting a multi-flavoured treat into her hand, he flopped beside her with casual grace. She chuckled as he eyed his cone almost ravenously. “Ice cream always makes me feel better.” 

The speed with which the cone disappeared down his throat was impressive. 

“So, want to talk about whatever it is, or do you just want me to talk while you eat that melting cone?” She blinked, glancing down at the ice cream that started to drip onto her fingers.

“Talk away.” The ice cream was delicious. André always knew what was best. 

Chat launched animatedly into stories of his adventures with Ladybug the day before as they faced off against Feast. He carefully filtered his tale, cutting out the important details a civilian might not need to know. 

“So, I grabbed a banana suit that I had laying around,” he laughed, throwing back his head. 

“A banana? Really?” 

The look on Chat’s face as he tried to control his laughter caught her off-guard.. He was so … HAPPY. Genuine tears of amusement welled up in his eyes as he continued to tell her all about meeting up with Ladybug. Listening to his description of herself made her blush - especially as he continued to gush about her. But it was the banana suit cracked him up, over and over, the grin on his face almost unbelievable. 

“She called me Bananoir. I love it!” 

Marinette knew that the last bits of her ice cream had melted into goo, dripping all over her hand and pants while she studied Chat’s face. This was a new and different side to him. How many times had she seen the cockiness, the foolishness, the dorkiness? His endless amounts of flirting and the big heart of gold? The puns and the playful antics? His willingness to intercede on her behalf? 

But she couldn’t think of one single time where he just let himself be relaxed and happy. 

She didn’t want it to end. She wanted to see that level of joy on his face every moment of every day. 

“Anyway,” she heard him say, realizing that he was giving her an awkward kind of glance. “I should probably get going. I hope that there is some paw-sibility that my banana story cheered you up.” A wink. 

Marinette popped the last of her soft cone into her mouth, licking the stickiness off her fingers. 

“Thanks, Chat Noir. I appreciate it. I feel much better.” 

He bowed one of his fancy, over-the-top bows before grabbing her close and jumping them back to the sidewalk. 

It was impulse that made her stretch up on the tips of her toes and press her lips to his cheek. She tried not to smirk at the soft blush that crossed his cheeks beneath his mask. 

“Have a great day, Chat,” she murmured, stirring him out of whatever stunned shock he’d paused in. 

“You too,” he choked out, practically throwing himself onto his baton to lunge away to the top of the next building over. She chuckled to herself. 

“Well, that was nice,” chirped Tikki. Marinette smiled as she rubbed her kwami’s little red head. It really was.

  
  



	19. Tuxedo Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _MR: I finally did it!! Ep and I were supposed to co-write today and I love dumping him in situations he has to write himself out of. And I STUMPED him… which meant_ *I* _had to write myself out of it. OOPS! *Furiously rethinks plan*_
> 
> _Plagg: (hands Ep a $20) I had no idea you could do it, kid. Nice job._
> 
> _Ep: I admit, it was a once-in-a-lifetime shot. MR won’t fall for it a second time, though._
> 
> _Lyra: Wait! I wasn’t even given the chance to bow out of a story because I was stumped and earn $20!?_
> 
> _Plagg: (eyes Lyra) Gimme your number and--_
> 
> _Ep: PLAGG!_
> 
> _MR: Thanks Plagg. *hands over another stack of Monopoly money and a wheel of cheese*_

Adrien sat slumped on the couch in his room, broken leg propped out in front of him. He’d taken a tumble during his most recent photoshoot, and his father had gone on a rampage, angry at both Adrien for daring to get hurt and ruin the shoot, and the intern who had bumped into his son. One was forever banished from Gabriel, the other trapped in his room. He’d been practicing with his crutches, but he still wasn’t very graceful.

Panic rose within him as his phone beeped with the familiar sound of an akuma alert. Plagg glared at him, shaking his head. “Kid, there’s no way you can transform with that. I’m good, but I’m no…” He broke off and disappeared as Adrien’s bedroom door burst open and his bodyguard hustled in. 

Adrien looked at the large man as he closed and locked the door behind him, shuffling over to the couch, almost nervously. He pointed at Adrien’s ring. Adrien’s hand fisted protectively around the ring, looking up at the older man, his eyes wide, his left hand sneaking up to cover the ring. He was surprised to see a blush steal across the man’s face as a low rumble emanated from the bodyguard’s chest. It took a few moments for Adrien to realize he was being spoken to. 

“You can’t be Chat Noir.” The older man gestured to Adrien’s broken leg. “I’ll cover for you.”

Adrien gaped at him, “How? When? Uh… what are you talking about?”

His bodyguard just looked at him, waiting patiently, hand extended. He glanced over to his computer where Plagg was hovering, hidden from the bodyguard’s view. The black kwami watched the man, assessed him, and then nodded his head. 

Closing his eyes, Adrien nodded and then pulled off the ring, handing it over. The big man slid it, surprisingly easily, onto his index finger. Adrien and Plagg quickly ran through what he would need to do, and the big man transformed. His two-toned hair transferred into his suit design, producing a Tuxedo Chat design; white across the chest plate, gloves and boots, and white rimming the mask, but black everywhere else. 

Ladybug turned at the sound of a less graceful than usual landing behind her and gasped as she took in her new partner’s appearance. Gone was the lithe black cat she was used to, instead stood before her a man who was as physically large as her father. She stepped back in surprise, and the big man reached up and stashed his baton behind his shoulder in the diagonal holder, before holding his hands out before him. 

“Chat Noir is unavailable right now. He offers his apologies for being unable to tell you himself, but I promise you that he will be back. I am his temporary replacement. You may call me Tuxedo Chat. It’s a paw-leasure to work with you.” Tuxedo Chat looked a little surprised at both the number of words he just uttered as well as the fact that he made a pun. 

Ladybug nodded, and together they took on the akuma, Ladybug impressed with her new partner’s quick wits and fighting ability. The only hesitation came when it was time to use cataclysm, but at Ladybug’s direction, he called for the ultimate power of destruction and freed the butterfly into the afternoon. 

After the traditional fist bump, the pair went their separate ways. Tuxedo Chat landing lightly in Adrien’s bedroom, and the boy looked up at him, struggling to get to his feet, but the older man waved him down. “Stay there.” His voice was a mellow baritone, and he filled Adrien in on the aspects of the fight. “Ladybug asked me to send you her best wishes, and hopes that you hurry back.” He shrugged. “I don’t take that last part personally.”

Adrien was in shock at how much his bodyguard was saying. He couldn’t remember him saying more than a single syllable before, and here he was chatting like they were old friends, which, he supposed, in a way, they were. 

Tuxedo Chat called for his transformation to fall, and the bodyguard nodded once, handing Adrien his ring back, and walking to the cabinet in which Adrien kept the camembert, pulling out a piece for Plagg, holding it out on his massive palm for the kwami to take. Plagg flew over, and plucked it out of his hand, taking it to the couch, close enough to Adrien’s head for him to get the full effect of the fumes. 

His bodyguard nodded at Adrien, then offering a quirk of the lips that passed for a smile, left the room without another word. Turning to his kwami, Adrien stared at Plagg, before glancing back at the door. “That was… interesting.”

Plagg grinned. “Oh yeah. He’s known for months. He’s much more observant than people give him credit for. Made a good Chat, too. Tuxedo Chat.” The kwami shrugged. “I liked the markings. The man has a great mind. Too bad the only reason he’s chatty is because of me.” With that, Plagg tossed a final piece of cheese up into the air, swallowing it in a single gulp, before burping camembert-scented fumes in Adrien’s direction.

“Plagg! That’s disgusting!” Adrien protested, before waving the stench away. “I wonder what Ladybug thinks I’m doing.”

Plagg just shrugged, already bored with the conversation. The bodyguard returned several hours later with Adrien’s dinner tray since he wasn’t easily able to maneuver the stairs. Adrien invited the man to keep him company and peppered him with questions about the akuma fight that afternoon, but his bodyguard was as stoic and silent as ever. 

Later that evening, he entered Adrien’s room, glanced at the boy’s ring, and uttered a single word, “Patrol.”

Adrien acquiesced and handed over his ring to the older man, who transformed into Tuxedo Chat and leaped out of Adrien’s bedroom window. Taking his time, Tuxedo Chat made his way to the roof of the Dupain-Cheng residence, stopping on Marinette’s balcony.

Hearing him land, Marinette slipped out through her hatch, shooting a confused look at Tuxedo Chat. 

“I’m sorry for bothering you Ladybug. I didn’t know what the normal procedure for patrol was, just that Chat Noir leaves about this time every couple of nights to do it. I should have asked Chat, but I figured I would just come here instead.”

Marinette’s mouth worked in shock as she took in the big man’s statement. Too surprised to even deny it, she just shook her head, eyes looking everywhere except at Tuxedo Chat. “Does Chat know who I am? Did he tell you to come here?”

Tuxedo Chat shook his head. “He doesn’t know who you are, or else he’d be mooning over you all day instead of Ladybug. Well, more than he already does.”

Blushing, Marinette turned back towards her temporary partner. “Are you his father? Is that why you know so much about him?”

With a growl, he whirled away from her. “No. But I should be. I can’t remember the last time Chat Noir’s father spoke to him other than to chastise him, or order him around. Kid deserves better than that. He has a good heart and good friends, but deserves a shot at living, you know?”

Marinette nodded. “I had an idea that his home life wasn’t good, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. What about his mom?”

Tuxedo Chat shook his head. “Gone. She wasn’t much better when she was around, but at least she paid him attention.” 

She smiled sadly. “What can I do to help him?”

He reached out a massive hand and patted her on the shoulder. “Be his friend. Both in and out of the suit.”

“I know who he is?”

Tuxedo Chat smiled; the first genuine emotion Marinette had seen cross his face. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.” Offering up the same two-fingered salute she often saw from Chat Noir, Tuxedo Chat left off into the night.

The next day, Marinette was on the school steps with Alya when Adrien’s towncar pulled up. His bodyguard got out and helped Adrien out of the car, handing the boy his crutches, and carrying his satchel for him. As they passed Marinette and Alya, Adrien offered them a greeting, and Alya fawned over him a little, but Marinette was distracted by the silent man standing protectively behind her blonde friend, and even more shocked when he winked at her. Her gaze snapped back to Adrien as her eyes roamed over him, picturing him, not as her classmate, but as her partner, and was shocked at how easily she recognized him now that she was looking. 

Turning wide eyes back to the bodyguard, he gave her an almost imperceptible nod, before ushering his charge up the rest of the steps into the school.


	20. Chat Got Your Tongue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Author’s Note: When Chat unexpectedly wakes up in Marinette’s bed with no memory of how he got there, panic (and hilarity) ensue._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: This brings new meaning to the phrase, will you respect me in the morning? Especially after you finish reading this. I promise I kept it firmly within the “T” rating._
> 
> _MR: You’re writing an awful lot of morning-afters this month. Are you trying to steal Lyra’s reputation???_
> 
> _Lyra: **gasp** Such unnecessary slander! I think you already took that title, MR! :P I might have to step up my game._

My mouth felt like cotton.

It was sort of an unusual way to come back to one’s senses, but as I began to become aware of myself once more, I found my head felt the same way; actually, _everything_ seemed a bit fuzzy. And drafty. Which was concerning, but not as much as the strange feeling of warmth on my chest. Specifically between---

Immediately I was wide awake, eyes shooting open to find I was staring at a very familiar ceiling - and it was in the odd glow of night vision. That meant I was still Chat Noir, which was _very_ unusual; I didn’t make a habit of sleeping transformed, given how cranky it made Plagg. But I realized I had bigger problems the moment the exotic scent of the actual occupant of the room hit my feline nose. Masked eyes darting downward, I saw Marinette nestled into the crook of my shoulder, her hair loose and flowing over the edge of my costume; those same eyes widened in shock to see that she had snuck a hand _inside_ my costume, having somehow managed to lower the bell-topped zipper to a spot just above my (admittedly) ripped abdominals.

Setting aside for the moment that the zipper actually _worked_ , I wracked my still-fuzzy feline brain to recall how, exactly, I had landed in Marinette’s bedroom. In her bed. With her hand inside---

Squeezing my masked eyes shut, I tried to seize control of the sudden panic that was rushing to overtake me. Marinette and I were good friends -- well, technically _Chat_ and Marinette -- and while I won’t deny the uplift in my heart that happened each time I found myself on her balcony, we’d never truly become a couple. At least, not one that would have wound up like this. 

Yet. 

I mean, _sure_ , she was amazingly attractive, was smart and funny and fun to be around, but she had someone else in her life. And it wasn’t an overgrown feline just wrapping his first year at university.

Taking a deep breath, I struggled to put together any sort of memory, though it was easy to be distracted by Marinette’s soft snoring, not to mention how insanely cute her face was in repose. It occurred to me that she wore very little makeup when my alter-ego saw her around campus; she didn’t need it, for Marinette had that natural beauty the model industry I labored within constantly yearned to discover.

_Focus_ , I chided myself, for I was finding some rather unsettling physical responses the more I thought about Marinette. _How the Hell did I wind up here?_

Marinette must have heard my thoughts, for she sighed and opened one eye to look at me, smiling slightly. “You’re awake at last,” she said. “How do you feel?”

“Confused?” I squeaked, before clearing my throat. “I mean, uh--”

Marinette sat up slightly, flipping around to lean on her arms, withdrawing the hand she’d had on my chest in the process. A significant part of me was sad she had. “You don’t remember, do you?” she asked softly as she brushed back a bang from my mask.

“No,” I said, and the worry was evident in my voice. “Did I… did we…?”

Marinette’s eyes danced in the darkness. “A lady never kisses and tells, Chat.”

Spluttering, I slid away from her and easily rolled off the bed, landing on my feet. Self-consciously, I tugged on the bell zipper and found it easily moved back to it’s traditional position at the base of my neck with a gentle tingle. My face felt as hot as a sun going supernova. “Princess - I didn’t mean - I mean, this is not how I operate! I don’t know what--”

Marinette slid down the steps of her ladder, her very feminine form evident beneath the cotton of her pajamas. That she was even _in_ them made my face flame further. “Chat,” she said kindly, “nothing happened. Nothing that either one of us didn’t _want_ to happen, anyway.”

I didn’t think my masked eyes could get any wider. “If I took advantage of our friendship--”

Marinette stepped closer - close enough that I could feel the effect it was having on me. Slowly, she reached up and ran a finger along the side of my mask. “You could never do that, kitty,” she said softly before smiling. “I can’t believe how endearing it is to see you get flustered, though.”

I swallowed, for it was clear _all_ of my model training had gone right out the window if I was having trouble masking my feelings appropriately around Marinette -- then I realized what I was thinking. 

_Feelings?_

Now totally flummoxed, I simply sank into my seated cat position in the dead center of her bedroom. “What is happening to me?” I asked rhetorically.

Not expecting an answer, I got one anyway when Marinette settled in next to me. “Nothing that isn’t entirely unexpected,” she explained. “We just needed an akuma to bring it front and center.”

_That_ dislodged something from the cotton in my fur brain. A memory - I was on a rooftop by the university when the akuma alert had chimed out on my baton. I blinked again and looked at Marinette. “I was on patrol,” I said haltingly. “Ladybug couldn’t join me.”

She nodded. 

Another flash, and I could see the glass panes of the greenhouse that was part of the school of agriculture. Then sounds of glass breaking - or maybe I broke them? Entering the greenhouse? I could suddenly feel the humidity in the densely planted space, and the remembered claustrophobia as the greenery towered over me. Or was that the akuma?

And the smells… all of that flora---

My head snapped up suddenly at the remembered fragrance. “Oh no,” I mewled.

Marinette nodded again. “It was a trap set by Hawkmoth,” she said softly. “Ladybug found you curled into a small ball, locked inside a cage and completely senseless. Even under the influence of akuma-inspired catnip, you put up quite a fight, though; you were injured pretty badly when she found you.”

I pressed a paw to where her hand had been on my chest, and looked at her questioningly. 

“Ribs,” she nodded. “And a broken clavicle. Miraculous cure patched you up, but you were down for the count. Literally.” She pressed a hand to my paw. “There was nothing for it - you needed a place to crash until the effects wore off, so I brought you home.”

My head felt like it was spinning at warp speed; I’d been under the influence of catnip a few times, and none of the experiences had gone well. “Did I… say anything?” I asked, before adding nervously. “Or… _do_ anything?”

Marinette smiled slightly as she tapped her hand against my chest. “You insisted I keep checking that you were healing,” she replied. “I had no idea the zipper actually worked until you showed me.”

“That makes two of us,” I said, forcing myself to laugh when in fact I wanted to crawl under her boudoir and die. “And explains your hand.”

“I must have fallen asleep,” she said. “After the last time.”

Feline ears shot upward at that as I asked: “Last… time?”

“I checked. Everything. Was healing,” she replied, a slight mischievousness in her eyes.

I gulped slightly. “Which you did?”

“Thoroughly,” she confirmed. “Every square centimeter. At your request.”

Cringing inwardly, I mustered what little self respect I had left and took a deep breath. “Marinette, I am so sorry. Catnip drops my inhibitions. I probably said things that---”

“Were all true,” she interrupted. “And just hadn’t gotten around to saying them quite yet.”

“Princess--”

“Chat,” she said, putting a finger to my lips. “I’ve known for a while how you felt about me, but you were too much of a gentleman to tell me.”

“You’re seeing someone already,” I blurted impulsively.

“Yes, I am,” she smiled. “He wears cute feline ears and a mask.”

My jaw dropped. “I thought--what about that guy you mentioned?”

“He’s not been in the picture for a long, long time,” she replied. “You, on the other hand, are here practically every night. Or I run into you at the park, or the Trocadero. Or, practically anywhere I might be in Paris.”

I flushed again. “That’s just hanging out,” I said defensively. “I wasn’t dating you!”

“Love doesn’t always work that way,” she said softly. “Sometimes it starts as friendship, then it blossoms into something far more precious.”

I started to shake my head and then stopped, for I _knew_ she was right. I did love her, even if I’d never admitted it to myself - or to her, out of fear of it getting in the way of our friendship. “I… hadn’t thought about it that way,” I said.

Marinette smiled wider. “Based on what you said this evening, you have, actually,” she teased as she gave my bicep a squeeze.

“Oh… wow…” I said, putting my face into my paws. “I am mortified. More so if I… made good on my… oh wow…” 

Patting my on the back of my costumed shoulders, she laughed. “We’ll get through this new reality,” she said firmly. “Now, you sit right here and I’ll go see if there are any goodies leftover from the bakery. I imagine you’re pretty hungry.”

My stomach let out a growl, and I smiled sheepishly. “You could say that.”

She stood and moved to the trapdoor, then paused before pulling it open. “I don’t get to spend much time here anymore,” she said fondly. “I have to say you’ve provided a nice diversion from an otherwise dull weekend of doing homework back at the dorm.”

“Happy to help,” I laughed, then sobered. “I am sorry that Ladybug put us into this position. But I have to admit, in a way I’m kind of glad I managed to get my feelings for you out into the open.”

“Me, too,” she smiled as she pulled up the door.

As she turned to go down the steps, several synapses in my brain finally cast off the last of their fuzziness from the catnip, and I leapt up to put a hand to her arm. “Wait,” I said urgently.

“What?” she asked, looking at me funny.

“You said… you said _you_ brought me home.”

“That’s _exactly_ what I said.” Marinette smiled wider. “I did bring you home.”

I blinked, and felt my jaw drop open for the second time.

“What’s wrong?” she asked merrily, trailing a magical finger along my jawline as she restarted her descent. “Chat got your tongue?”


	21. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Upset at being forced to cancel a romantic evening with Chat due to work obligations, Marinette gets an unexpected visitor to the office that happens to know exactly how to cheer her up._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Special note: This is a recently discovered missing chapter from_ Roommates _, taking place sometime during those first few weeks after Chat’s apartment surprise._
> 
> _MR: So, I know you have a habit of testing things out for your stories… how many casseroles did you go through for this one?_
> 
> _Ep: (stares at the mess in the kitchen sink) Uh, a few. Julia Child never had this kind of a mess, did she?_
> 
> _Lyra: No wonder cats are a girl’s best friend._

The design wasn’t coming together at all. I’d spent the better part of the day on it, and had nothing to show for it other than an overflowing digital trashcan and a pile of empty coffee cups. Slumping over my keyboard, I started to slowly bang my head against the coolness of the desk. I was less than a month into my new role as a junior designer at Chateau Le Blanc, and while I’d loved the challenges the position had given me, I was starting to think this latest project was beyond my feeble talents. 

Pushing myself up, I stared at the latest disaster on my screen and sighed. Another cup of coffee seemed to be in order; it was ironic, for I’d been more of a hot cocoa drinker before moving in with Chat. I blamed him for my current caffeine addiction, though the thought of my feline-themed boyfriend did finally bring a smile to my face. 

Looking up, I could just see the top of my cube mate’s head across the divider. “I’m going for coffee,” I said. “Want anything, Shelly?”

“I’m good,” she murmured.

Turning my chair, I stood and moved through the mostly empty cubicle farm. Only the lowest of the lowest rung were still here, putting in our time at the altar of fashion late into the night. Chat popped into my head again, for he had originally planned a romantic evening for the two of us, capped off with prime rooftop seating for the Bastille Day fireworks. He’d taken it well when I’d been forced to cancel, though the wilting of his feline ears had told a different story.

I sighed as I worked my way to the glassed-in breakroom against the far wall of the space. Chat had been amazingly supportive of my career from the very start, despite the long hours I was having to put in. Water cooler talk had informed me that very few of my colleagues had relationships outside of the office; some had even been through catastrophic breakups. Somehow I was still managing both my dual life as Ladybug _and_ something of a fairy tale romance with Chat. 

Sighing again, I was reminded of his thoughtfulness; he seemed to know exactly what I needed at just the right moment when I was stuck in a design black hole. As I pushed through the door to the room, I realized sadly that a few hours with my special kitty might have been just the ticket out of my fashion dilemma that evening.

Lost in thoughts of my feline-eared boyfriend, I wasn’t truly paying attention until it dawned on me the overhead lights were off and the privacy blinds had been dropped against the glass. As my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, I found said feline seated cross-legged in the cleared center of the space, masked green glowing eyes facing me above a sly smile.

“I wondered when you’d get hungry,” he purred as he leapt to his feet and took me by the hand, lowering his lips to kiss my knuckles without removing his feline eyes from mine. 

“Chat?” I said with wonder as I looked around. There was a small tablecloth with pillows on two sides - his favorite setup for our rooftop getaways - and a handful of small, battery-powered flickering candles were placed in multiple spots, giving the normally institutional space a warm, cozy feeling. “How--how did you get in here?”

“Cat flap.” He tugged me down and settled me onto a pillow, then resumed his seat at my arm. 

Savory smells caught my attention, and I watched as Chat opened a casserole and deftly scooped out a steaming helping of Boeuf Bourguignon into a small bowl, then handed it to me along with a sizable part of a baguette. “This smells divine,” I said gratefully, my stomach suddenly reminding me that I’d been living on coffee since leaving the apartment that morning.

“I can’t take credit for this,” he smiled as he served himself. “I swung past the Bakery and did takeout.”

I was lost in the robust flavors of the dish, one that my mother made regularly for customers at the Bakery. Chat was well aware of it being a comfort food for me, and I smiled yet again at how perfectly he’d deduced what I needed. Closing my eyes, I lived in the moment for a few seconds, relishing the cooking and slowly feeling my soul fill with warmth - and not just from the food.

Chat managed to slide behind me, and I felt his paws on my shoulders. “You are _seriously_ tense,” he said softly as he started to work out the kinks in the muscles, kneading them out as he started to purr.

“Oh, _wow_ ,” I said as he expertly obliterated the knots.

“Continue eating,” he commanded as he worked his way up the muscles behind my neck, gently massaging just behind my ears. “You need to keep up your energy,” he added, and I felt his tail slowly wend its way around my waist in a gentle hug. 

Obeying my kitty was easy to do, for I was famished; he paused in his ministrations briefly while I helped myself to another bowl. By the time I’d finished my third round, he was slowly rubbing my temples, eliminating the last traces of the headache I didn’t know I’d had. I leaned into one paw, and grabbed the other to plant a long, slow, kiss. “Thank you,” I said.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes,” I said, twisting around to him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

Chat smiled. “I’m not,” he said brightly. “It led to me being here now.”

Twisting further, I smiled wider. “It did,” I breathed, as I closed in for a kiss, “didn’t it?”

“Yes,” he purred, his eyes narrowing as I gently connected. 

His lips were surprisingly soft yet so totally masculine, and tasted slightly of the wine in the sauce of our dish. There was work waiting for me out on my desk, but I didn’t want to do anything more than explore those lips of my boyfriend - at least for a few more minutes. Closing my eyes, I leaned into Chat further, intent on thanking him in my own special way.

Chat seemed receptive and leaned back into me, but in a brief moment of parting, he whispered huskily, “Princess, while I’m fully behind distracting you, I’m not sure you have time--”

“Kitty?” I breathed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Some time later, I slipped back out of the breakroom, careful to close the door behind me so Chat could clean up his surprise. As I started back toward my desk, I could feel the extra spring in my step and was able to _finally_ visualize the fresh idea that had popped into my head while my kitty had been looking after my mental health.

Slipping into my chair, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and started to dig in on my computer, oblivious to my cube mate’s face that had appeared over the divider. Humming to myself, it took her three shots to catch my eye.

“Marinette,” Shelly said with a smile. “What’s gotten into you? You look like the cat that’s caught the canary.”

_More the reverse,_ I thought smugly as I smiled. “Just a fresh cup of coffee,” I said instead, lifting my Chat Noir-themed mug. “Now, about this pattern…”


	22. Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Protecting Marinette from an akuma takes on a new dimension when she inadvertently plants a kiss on Chat's cheek, for luck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: It just occurred to me that we’ve gotten all the way to the 22nd chapter before making our standard disclaimer. Maybe ZAG signed over the rights and the letter was lost in the mail._
> 
> _MR: *whistles innocently* Nope. Nothing in my mailbox!_
> 
> _Lyra: I got this standard bilingual French-English junkmail letter. Close enough?_

The akuma crashed through the wall of Dupont, cascading a wave of brick and dust inward. Marinette had managed to evacuate most of her classmates by that point and had planned on transforming, but instead found herself diving beneath one of the rows of raised desks to avoid the worst of the debris. Coughing and waving at the dust, she couldn’t get a clear line of sight to whatever they were facing, but also knew it was risky to transform without getting clear of the room.

Channeling some of the calmness she normally felt as Ladybug, she cooly poked her head out from beneath the desk and squinted her eyes against the dust, trying to find a clear path to the door of the classroom. Looking over her shoulder and still not seeing anything, she made the call and started to creep carefully around large chunks of wall only to find the door to be completely blocked by an especially large section of debris. With her yo-yo, she’d be able to make quick work of the window, and looking around once more, she started to call on Tikki.

A shadow fell across the frosted window, though, causing her to look up and see a particularly recognizable feline silhouette. “Marinette!” she heard Chat Noir call out. “Stand back!”

Swiftly understanding what he was about, she ducked behind what was left of the teacher’s desk and pressed her back up against it. A moment later, she heard the window to the door shatter, followed by the rubbery _thump_ of her partner landing inside the classroom. One more vault and he was leaning around to her, his masked feline eyes full of concern as he searched her quickly for injuries. “You’re bleeding!” he said softly as he pressed the soft part of his finger to a part of her cheek, careful to keep his claws away from her skin.

“It’s nothing,” she said as she tried to wave him away.

“It’s _something_ ,” he replied as he kept the pressure up. “And rather deep, too.”

“I’m fine,” Marinette insisted, desperate for him to leave her alone long enough to transform. “I can get out now that you’ve got the window open. I’m sure others are in need of---”

Before she knew what was happening, Chat had picked her up in his strong arms and leapt out through the massive hole the akuma had made; somehow, despite his precious cargo, he managed to baton his way up into the sky and over to the building next to Dupont, where he carefully put Marinette down against a skylight.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said softly. “I’ll be back as soon as Ladybug and I cash out this akuma.” He took her hand and placed it over her injury. “Press here, and hold it. It should stop the bleeding.”

“Chat, I’m fine! It’s just a scratch.”

He glared at her, his masked feline eyes narrowing. “Your blouse says otherwise,” he said. “If you have a spare piece of cloth in your purse, you might want to use that, too.”

As Chat leapt to the edge of the rooftop to determine where the akuma had gone, Marinette started to sigh, and only then caught the river of red running along her white shirt. Pulling out her cellphone, she reversed the camera and trained it on her face. Her eyes went wide when she saw the rather deep gash just below her eye, which itself was bloodshot and swelling closed.

“Holy—“

In a flash, Chat was by her side again. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Something hit you pretty hard. I’m afraid you’re going to look like you were on the losing end of a boxing match for a few days.”

Marinette felt the first stages of panic setting in, wondering if the injury would be hidden by her transformation. If she could just get Chat to leave her be… “I’m fine. Let me—“

“You’re not,” he said, and she could see him weighing something. A moment later, his eyes took on the determination she often saw when he’d fully committed to whatever plan Ladybug had come up with, no matter how wildly extraordinary it might be. “There’s an infirmary three blocks from here,” he said as he quickly scooped her back into his arms. “Hang on.”

“Chat, please! You don’t have to get me there.”

“It won’t take but a moment,” he said confidently as they soared into the blue sky together. “I’ll be back to Dupont before the akuma---whelp! So much for that,” he hastily added as he abruptly tacked left, narrowly avoiding a massive piece of the school’s facade that had been tossed at him.

Landing along a tiered ledge of a slightly higher building, Chat protectively pressed Marinette behind his body as he shortened and then spun up his baton. “This might actually work to our advantage,” he murmured thoughtfully as his feline eyes landed on the shape of the akuma. It was half a block behind them, standing next to what was left of Dupont. Despite the petite form, it appeared perfectly capable of hurling sizable chunks of debris at him; the ledge was barely out of range, but Chat could see that would soon change as the akuma started toward him.

“Is that window open behind you?” Chat asked.

Marinette started, for she’d been so focused on getting away from Chat, she’d not taken in her surroundings. She smiled slightly when she turned and realized _he_ was completely plugged in. _Good kitty,_ she thought. _We can escape--_

“If it is, we can escape through the building and lose it for a moment,” Chat completed her thought.

Nodding approvingly, she tugged at the window sash and threw it up. “We’re in.”

Chat dove through the window, grabbing Marinette around the waist in a smooth movement; a fraction of a second later, part of the decorative filigree from Dupont smashed into the ledge and created a gaping hole where the window had once been. Without missing a beat, Chat rolled into a stand, and grabbed Marinette by the hand as they tore through what appeared to be a cubicle office.

Crashes from behind them told Marinette the akuma was in the building; turning, she could tell from the crafty smile on her partner’s face he’d heard it, too. _Of course he would_ , she chastised herself mentally, her eyes darting to his feline ears. _Those are actually kind of cute._

Suddenly ducking into a stairwell she’d missed, Chat tugged on her arm abruptly, nearly yanking her shoulder out of it’s socket. Stifling a moan at the ache, she was caught off guard when he started _up_ the steps before realizing it was, indeed, counter-intuitive. Three flights up, Chat pressed her into the shadows and put a claw tip to her lips.

As she held her breath, she heard the door they’d used explode into smithereens, filling the stairwell with dust. Still they stood silently, and she watched Chat’s ears pivot as he honed in on where the akuma was; a moment later, the clanking of something moving _down_ confirmed Chat’s instinct had been spot on.

Marinette tried not to groan at the pun in her brain. How much had her partner had rubbed off on her?

Carefully, Chat pulled open the door to the floor they were on and pushed her in. “I’m sorry, Princess,” he said and she could see he was torn. “I’ve got to go after that thing and lead it away from here. Find a place to hide - keep pressure on that cut! - and I’ll be back to get you to the infirmary.”

“I can do that,” she said. “And Chat?”

He turned back, already coiled to leap away to battle. “Yes?”

Impulsively, she leaned up and kissed him full on the lips; she felt Chat tense up and then relax as he leaned into her; unexpectedly, she felt him wrap an arm around her and pull her even closer. While it only lasted for a few moments, as she leaned away from him it felt as though far longer had elapsed; what startled her more was the look in Chat’s eyes as they broke the embrace.

It was raw hunger for affection, and she knew in a heartbeat her eyes were reflecting the same.

“Princess,” Chat said delicately, “what was that for?”

Marinette smiled. “For luck, silly kitty. Don’t you watch _Star Wars_?”

That broke the tension as Chat rolled his eyes. “ _That_ kiss has to be one of the most controversial--”

“Chat,” Marinette interrupted. “Akuma.”

“Right,” he smiled coyly. “But this conversation isn’t over.”

She nodded. “No,” she said. “No, it isn’t. Please be careful, though.”

“I purromise,” he laughed as he vaulted away from her.

Marinette watched as the door closed behind him and wondered why she suddenly had this upwelling of emotion over her partner. Maybe she had bonked her head harder than she realized; was it possible she had a concussion of some kind? She shook her head as she finally called on Tikki, putting all of it aside to join Chat out there against the akuma.

A few minutes later, she located her partner astride a lamppost, intently watching the akuma as it barreled toward them, tail flicking in anticipation. He turned at the sound of her approach, smiling. “Milady, I was feline neglected---” he started and then suddenly paused, his masked eyes going wide.

“Chat?” she asked as she landed beside him. “I don’t normally make you speechless.”

“Sorry, LB,” he said, his feline eyes staring at her intently. “It must have been the kiss - I’m off my game.”

Ladybug arched an eyebrow, wondering why he’d said that. “Kiss? What kiss?”

Chat slowly started to smile. “I’ll tell you later,” he said enigmatically. “Let’s take this guy down, shall we? This is interrupting prime catnap time.”

* * *

Marinette barely managed to get back to the spot Chat had left her and de-transformed before his feline face appeared around the door to the stairwell, concerned masked eyes softening once he confirmed she was still there and in one piece. His frown of concern turned slightly impish, though, when he stepped over to her and gently traced his claw tip where her injury had been.

“It’s fixed,” he smiled wider. “Apparently the Miraculous Cure found you.”

Pressing her hands to her face, Marinette smiled. “I had no idea.”

Chat’s paw reached up to her hair, and brushed back a loose strand; as he did so, his ring chirped, but he ignored it. “Let me get you back to school, Milady,” he said casually.

“Princess,” Marinette corrected. “That’s what you normally call me.”

“Right,” he smiled wider. “Sorry, it was a long fight,” he added as he scooped her up into his arms. “And I still have that kiss on my mind. Can I stop by tonight?”

“At the Bakery?” Marinette asked as he hurtled up the stairwell to the roof. “Sure.”

“Purrfect,” he purred.

* * *

Knowing Chat wanted to talk about the kiss, and being somewhat ambivalent as to its meaning herself, Marinette paced the rooftop patio of her parent’s Bakery hours later. Clouds had moved in, blocking the partial moon that had risen earlier; the sole source of illumination in the space came from the party lights she had strung over the space. Not that it mattered; Chat would be able to see her just fine with that night vision of his. More than once it had come in handy when fighting an akuma - enough that she was slightly jealous of his ability.

The gentle _thump_ above and behind her told Marinette her visitor had arrived. “Hello,” Chat said as she turned to see him perched atop the conical chimney he seemed to favor.

“Hey,” she smiled and waved him down. “Look. About that kiss,” she started as he leapt to the railing and balanced atop the thin rail. “It was sort of spur of the moment.”

Chat narrowed his masked eyes at her. “Are you about to tell me it meant nothing?” he asked, tail twitching. She’d been around him long enough to tell the difference between agitation and playfulness, and found her eyes widening when it was of the latter variety.

“Well, no,” she said, eyes still fixed on his tail. “I mean, it probably needs context, right?”

“Indubitably,” he nodded.

She blinked. “Indubitably?”

“I’m an erudite feline, Princess,” he teased. 

“I had no idea.”

“There is a lot you don’t know about me,” he smiled as he cocked his head. “On the other paw, there is a lot you _do_ know about me.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” he nodded seriously. “For example, I am loyal to a fault; once I am committed to something, I never give up, no matter the cost. And I protect those I love.”

Marinette looked at him. “I guess I did know that,” she said.

“I’m also pretty observant,” he said as he slid off the railing. “Like this morning.”

“Must come with being a cat,” she replied as he stepped close to her. For some reason, she felt her pulse tick up a notch at the nearness of his presence - not out of fear; no, it was nearly the same sensation she’d had in that stairwell.

“Yes,” Chat said as he slowly, gently reached his paw to her face, and used his claw tip once more to trace where her injury had been. He leaned up and whispered into her ear, “You both had the same injury.”

Marinette stepped back, eyes wide in panic. She had assumed the transformation had covered over the gash her civilian alter-ego had gotten; now she understood why Chat had been thrown off when she appeared to him as Ladybug during the akuma battle. “What are you talking about?” she squeaked, feeling as though her world was about to crash and burn.

_He can’t know. He can’t find out!_

Chat put a claw tip to her chin, raising her eyes to his. She saw his compassion for her there, and intuitively knew he would protect her - and her secret - without question. This was not how she had expected it to go, by any means, but the sudden comfort she felt at the certainty he was radiating assuaged the panic that had threatened to overtake her.

“We’ve got this,” he said softly. “Together.”

Slowly, she nodded, smiling a bit. “We do, don’t we?”

“Yes,” he said as he pulled her back to him, hugging her against his costumed chest. She felt the subtle thrumming of his gentle purring as he stroked the back of her hair. “The kiss meant a lot,” he said quietly. “Didn’t it?”

“It meant _everything_ ,” she sighed. “I just didn’t realize it until now.”


	23. Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His alter-ego banned from leaving the mansion, Chat nonetheless escapes in order to daydream about his girlfriend on a sunny rooftop in Paris. Too bad he was supposed to be somewhere else that morning..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: Much like Chat, I have this odd feeling I am supposed to be somewhere else today. If anyone can remember, please let me know. And if I was supposed to meet you, looks like I’ll be late…_
> 
> _MR: I think you were supposed to be enjoying the nice weather and mowing my yard today...._

Chat roamed the rooftops of Paris, fuming, for once more his father had insisted that he need no distractions over the weekend. Not only had guests of any kind to the mansion been forbidden, Adrien had likewise been chastised for having spent _too_ much time frivolously socializing with friends during the week. Roughly translated, it meant another lonely weekend filled with endless hours doing homework, or practicing the piano; if he could get away with it, maybe a few bursts of video gaming to break up the monotony. But on that particular early Saturday morning, the sixteen-year-old beneath the mask and feline ears was understandably feeling more than a little rebellious; it hadn’t hurt that a certain kwami of destruction -- used to upending the status quo where possible -- had actually egged him into transforming and escaping into the beautiful blue sky filled with brilliant sunshine.

The feline-themed superhero knew that beneath the cranky exterior, Plagg had a soft spot for his holder and had only made the suggestion in an attempt to cheer up Adrien; it wasn’t a tough sell, for the freedom provided by his alter-ego was always a welcome antidote to the lock-step life the young supermodel otherwise found himself grinding through. It was one of just a handful of bright spots that had appeared since the disappearance of his mother years earlier.

Soaring into the sunshine over an alleyway, Chat landed atop an antenna aerial a few blocks from his virtual prison, and already felt the weight of being the son of a famous designer lifting - along with his spirits. Closing his masked eyes, he turned his wild mane into the warmth of the day and basked briefly in the base feline instincts that came with the Miraculous. 

_Where to go?_ He thought to himself as his feline ears pivoted to pick up the sounds of the city around him. 

Having pulled this action a time or two before, he knew his alter-ego wouldn’t be missed until far later in the day. One of the upsides to performing the act of dutiful son was the implicit assumption he would simply follow his Father’s instructions and remain secluded in his room at the mansion. Chat felt a sly smile appear on his face, wondering if his increasing intrepidity was a direct result of Plagg’s influence over the years. 

_No_ , he thought as he set off in no particular direction once more, _this is all me. Chat is just a convenient excuse to let myself run wild._

Careful to keep away from the streets and, reluctantly, to the shadows where possible, Chat tried to honor Ladybug’s request at least in spirit that he only appear to Paris when needed. There had been many conversations between the two of them over the years regarding his continued predilection to transform at the slightest whim and prowl; they had trailed off a bit as their partnership deepened into a solid friendship that had bonded the two of the together, more so when she’d become became the latest Guardian. Secretly, Chat thought Ladybug teased him more because she actually loved seeing him in his feline ears and skintight supersuit; he couldn’t deny how he looked forward to any opportunity where that form-fitting red-and-black outfit of hers graced his presence.

He sighed as he randomly arrived at one of his favored rooftop hideaways; it was angled in such a way that Chat could snooze in direct sunshine _and_ have a nearly unobstructed view of the Grand Palais surrounded by its lush gardens. While he’d never actually given up hope of one day wooing Ladybug to be, well, _his_ Ladybug, he was intuitive enough to know that what little chance he might have had with her had gone out the window the day Master Fu made her Guardian. Not only had Ladybug had become even more professional, she had gently but firmly reminded him that there was another boy in her life; whoever it was, he had to give them credit, for at first blush they seemed to be a much needed grounding presence for his partner, something heretofore he’d assumed had been his province. In the end, he was just happy she was happy.

Chat had slowly begun to take the steps to look for love elsewhere, though as he folded his arms behind his unruly mane, it had not been without its own travails. Dating anyone as Adrien Agreste had proven to be impossible; his brief foray with Kagami had shown that, given the pressures the two of them had to be the perfect offspring and, essentially, brand ambassadors for their parent’s respective companies. Chloe had pulled herself out of the running after the disaster she’d wrought as the Miracle Queen akuma; he’d known how self-centered she was growing up with her, but had hoped under Ladybug’s influence, she’d turn over a new page. It hadn’t happened, and besides, she’d finally moved to New York to be with her mother.

He couldn’t quite remember how he had heard that Marinette’s heart had been broken; to be honest, while she had been a solid friend to his alter-ego, until that moment he’d kept her in the periphery. But she had looked so distraught at school that particular afternoon, quietly sobbing while surrounded by all of her friends, his inner Chat instantly kicked into gear. Adrien had, of course, been whisked off to fencing practice, unable to do anything in the moment; feigning a twisted ankle had allowed Chat to sneak out of the locker room and locate a still-despairing Marinette on a park bench near her family’s Bakery.

The mask and costume had engendered trust enough for her to allow Chat to comfort her; while he never did find out who it was she’d been crushed by, that pivotal event had led to Chat appearing more nights than not at the Bakery. He smiled wider, for visits to the park together -- ostensibly for sketching the flora and fauna -- had soon followed, though that had required him to don a costume _over_ his costume in order to hide him in plain sight when he was out with Marinette.

Before either of them realized what had happened, they’d fallen into a comfortable relationship that felt like it was as old, and as natural, as time itself. Love had not been an unexpected byproduct, though it was somewhat tricky navigating the civilian/superhero challenges that presented. Somehow, they had managed a way to do it that both protected his secret identity while allowing him to dote on his girlfriend as much as was felinely possible.

Thinking of Marinette always made his soul feel as though he had finally found his purrfect match, for she understood him in ways others couldn’t. The mask had long allowed Chat to be the person he truly wanted to be, and Marinette had somehow seen that too, reaching down beyond the pun-loving, flirtatious persona he presented to Ladybug and the world writ large to wrap herself around his heart. He could die happy having seen how she smiled at him when he appeared to her at the Bakery or any other random spot in Paris.

Marinette had done more for what had been that lonely boy beneath the mask and feline ears than she’d be able to know in the near term; he’d repaid the favor in kind, being there during the difficult moments she had, not all of which she’d been comfortable confiding in him entirely. The pressures of school, combined with the struggle of keeping a family business running seemed to truly weigh her down, not to mention trying to get into a top-notch university after graduation. Chat never asked for details, just patiently was there for her however she needed him to be, whether that was sharing a hot cocoa over a game of UNO, or simply holding her tight to his costumed chest to watch the stars come out over the city, his tail carefully wrapping itself around her waist.

As he got to know Marinette better, Chat realized she was _everything_ he had thought he’d seen at Dupont that day he had handed her his umbrella. Ladybug had stood in his way then, which is why he’d been a fool and hadn’t acted on his instincts. But in fairness to himself, he knew now that it had taken time for him to understand the difference between infatuation and truly loving someone. The Adrien -- or Chat, for that matter -- that may have approached Marinette back then wasn’t the Chat of today, the one she was in love with.

The warmth of the sun made Chat languid, unwilling to even reach for his baton when it started to incessantly buzz at the small of his back. Reaching for it reluctantly, he was relieved to see it wasn’t an akuma alert. In fact, as the warm smile that appeared on his masked visage could attest to, it was something far superior: a text from Marinette.

**_Mari_ ** _: You forgot, didn’t you?_

**_CN_ ** _: I never furget a pretty face, Princess._

**_Mari_ ** _: (eye roll emoji) I know THAT. But you promised fencing practice today. I can’t believe you fell for the evil wiles of the sun instead._

Chat felt his ears pop up straight and masked eyes widen; groaning, one look at the clock on his baton told him his girlfriend wasn’t wrong, for he _had_ committed to another round of teaching Marinette some more advanced moves. She’d gotten rather good since joining the squad with Adrien (at his gentle encouragement), though he'd been surprised at how much of a gymnast she appeared to be. What wasn’t surprising was her rather accurate hunch as to where her boyfriend had disappeared to. 

**_CN_ ** _: Nothing could come between us - not even the sun. Sorry! My quick catnap got out of hand. Be there in five._

**_Mari_ ** _: I’ll be waiting…_

He found her in a more secluded part of the wide plaza, outfitted in workout gear that hugged her beautiful form in a way that made Chat’s pulse start to race. Despite how constantly he told her how gorgeous she was, Marinette would always blush and wave him off, calling her boyfriend a biased observer. It didn’t matter how often it made her flush - he repeated it as regularly as he could in an attempt to make her a believer. 

Impulsively, he took her into his arms and gently kissed her. As they parted, she arched an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take that over a basic ‘hello’ any day. But what brought that on?”

“Nothing,” he smiled. “Everything,” he added enigmatically. 

“Okay,” she returned the smile, her eyes dancing with understanding. “Ready for what’s next?”

“Always, Princess,” he laughed as he answered a different question than perhaps the one asked. Extending his baton slightly, he grinned wickedly. “Now and furever.”


	24. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette catches Chat Noir cheating while they play video games together, and decides to teach him a lesson in honesty - with surprising results._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: I wish I could say I play like Chat. Sadly, I can’t. So I’ll stick to solitaire._
> 
> _MR: This puts a whole new twist on “cheaters never win”_
> 
> _Lyra: Tetris anyone?_

“Not again!” Chat cried as he fell backwards onto the pillow I’d let him prop up against. “You are entirely too good at this game, Mari,” he mewled as he threw out his arms in abject defeat.

I stared at him, for while I had indeed won the fifth round of the night, somewhere along the line I had begun to suspect my feline companion of intentionally throwing the game. No shrinking violet when it came to Ultimate Mec Warriors, and well aware of Chat’s prowess when he’d been forced to play a more deadly version of the game courtesy of Hawkmoth, I wondered why the chivalrous streak had appeared. 

Resetting the game for a fifth round, my eyes flicked to the boy in the very form-fitting costume beside me and started to formulate a plan to uncover what was going on. “Another go?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, immediately sitting up, controller in paws, tail twitching with anticipation.

We started another round, and a few minutes in, I made a classic rookie move that Chat _should_ have pounced on, one that would score him a ten-fold increase in points. Without betraying anything, though, Chat made a subtle adjustment in his attack, missing the golden opportunity but still racking up a healthy number of points. A moment later, I made a similar “mistake,” and Chat _did_ capitalize on it.

With increasing amazement, I started to realize how carefully he’d been playing all this time; yes, he had consistently been losing to me, but in such a way that it was still competitive. What was more striking was how much _better_ a player he was that I’d realized - the ability to play so poorly and yet so brilliantly was insanely wild.

Predictably, though, I won round six. And seven. And eight.

By round nine, Chat was crying uncle. “I need a break, Princess,” he said, flopped back once more, his wild bangs partly covering his masked face. “My paws are aching at the thrashing you are giving me.”

“Thrashing,” I said thoughtfully.

Something in the way I’d said it alerted Chat to my intentions, but his feline eyes snapped open a moment too late. In a heartbeat, I’d swiftly grabbed the pillow I was sitting on myself and pressed it to his vulnerable chest, leaning my entire weight against it. It helped that I knew a bit about his normally lithe movements, allowing me to counter his increasingly frantic struggles beneath me.

“Hey!” he cried out as he tried to shift again. I’d managed to pin one of his arms beneath me, making it harder - but not impossible - for him to push himself up. I also cagily used his innate goodness against him, knowing he’d not twist and leap away using his superstrength out of fear of injuring me. “What are you doing!?”

“Admit it,” I said, my deep blue eyes just a half meter from his masked ones. “You’re cheating.”

“Cheating?” he asked incredulously. “I’m _losing_!”

“Wrong answer,” I said, grinning wickedly.

Chat’s eyes widened at my expression. “I don’t know--oooooh, hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!” he gasped, the laughter pouring out of him as I wickedly tickled an exposed and rather vulnerable area along the side of his chest, just a fraction below his armpit. I knew from a prior visit (and, admittedly, insider information from an akuma we had fought some weeks earlier) that he was particularly sensitive in that spot, even with the supersuit. “That’s… hahahahahahah…. not-whooooo!”

Frantically, he tried to squirm away from me, but I dug in until the tears started to stream from those amazing emerald feline eyes. “Okay,” I said evilly. “Now, admit it.”

Trying to catch his breath, I saw him narrow his eyes in defiance. “Never!” he cried.

I redoubled my efforts, and in moments he was a quivering mass of laughter, putty beneath my touch. At one point, he was howling with laughter so loudly, I feared my parents were going to appear through the trapdoor, asking tough questions. I was forced to stop, grudgingly proud my partner hadn’t cracked under pressure.

Still shaking with laughter and wiping away the tears with a paw, Chat rolled up into a seated position. It wasn’t lost on me he was just out of reach. “What---whooo! What was that all about?”

“You’re cheating,” I accused, crossing my arms. “Letting me win.”

Chat’s laughter died, and his eyes went a little wider. “Oh,” he said, and to his credit, he started to nod. “It’s not all that easy, actually,” he smiled slightly. “You are really good. I mean, like, tournament-level good.”

“I know,” I replied smugly. “Having gone to one already.”

Chat smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he laughed. 

“Then why? _Why_ throw the game?” I demanded.

“Honestly?” he asked.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

His masked eyes darted away, and he did that thing with his hand to the back of his neck, which I knew meant he was uncomfortable. It was also vaguely familiar to me. “I… I want to keep visiting,” he said softly as his gaze returned to mine. “I assumed if I blasted you each and every time we played, you’d stop wanting me around.”

Chat’s expression was so forlorn, it nearly hurt. “Oh, kitty,” I said. “Winning or losing at a video game isn’t going to change how I feel about you.”

“Really?” he said, and the sincerity at which he said it hurt me more. It was clear he’d had some pretty miserable friendships in his past. 

“Yes,” I said Ladybug-firmly. “You are here because I want _you_ here, not because I require someone I can beat at video games.”

“Oh,” he said as he digested that concept. “Me-me? Chat-me?”

“Yes,” I replied as I tapped him in the chest with a finger. “Chat-you. Always.”

Sliding over to me, he quickly hugged me. “That… that means a lot to me, Princess,” he said softly, his wide feline eyes moist. “More than you know.”

I smiled at him and picked up the controller he’d been using, pressing it into his paw. “Good. Now, best two out three? Loser has to carry the winner to the top of the Eiffel Tower?”

Chat groaned as he took the controller. “That’s easier for one of us.”

“I know,” I said as I turned back to the game. “Prepare to lose, kitty.”

“I can’t,” he said softly. “Someone just told me _not_ to. But I’ve already won, no matter how this plays out.”

I looked at him and smiled. “I think we both have.”


	25. BLEP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyra: Apparently, this month, I’m all about my fave duo being parents._
> 
> _MR: It’s all this Family Togetherness we’ve been experiencing._
> 
> _Ep: Maybe. But the endless rounds of Go Fish are starting to get to me. Unrelated: Lyra, do you have an eight of spades?_
> 
> _Lyra: Go fish._

He fought akumas for years. Defeated Hawkmoth 1.0 AND 2.0. Recovered from the trauma of discovering his father had been the source of all things terrible in Paris. Stood at the front of a church with his heart in his throat as his bride appeared at the end of the aisle in a vision of white. So why was this tiny little thing in his arms the single most terrifying thing he had ever faced? 

Everything about her was breathtakingly perfect. A button nose. Little wrinkled fingers curling over the edge of the swaddle. Tiny lashes brushing against the softness of curved cheeks. A downy tuft of dark hair. 

This child. She was his. His! Adrien couldn’t help the way he trembled a little staring at the small body wrapped in a soft pink blanket. He didn’t know if he could be a good father, but more than anything he wanted to be. 

His eyes slid over to where Marinette lay sleeping peacefully after the amazing work she did to bring their daughter into the world. She deserved to rest. A quick check of the door confirmed it to be closed - the hustle and bustle of the hospital hidden on the other side.

“Plagg?” he whispered, relieved as his kwami instantly zipped out of his shirt and hovered over the baby. “What do you think? This is Emma.” 

Plagg made a funny little noise. “Cute kitten.” Adrien didn’t expect the swell of pride that came with those words. 

“Thanks.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“What if I’m a terrible father, Plagg? What if I end up being just like MY father? What if she hates me?” Plagg shot him a sideways glance before floating into Adrien’s face, the tiny clawed paws taking hold of his owner’s cheeks. 

“Listen, Kid. You aren’t your father. You never have been. You never will be. You will always be better than him. And, if I ever see that you are neglecting this kitten, I will cataclysm you myself.” 

The weight practically fell off. Daring to pull an arm out from under his tiny cargo, Adrien scratched Plagg’s ears with quiet thankfulness. 

Emma responded at the shift of movement, wiggling slightly his arms with a quiet cry of complaint. Adrien froze, eyes instantly snapping to her face as his other hand dropped back to position underneath her. Her tiny face screwed up in a frown, mouth opening to let out another cry - this time much more insistent. Exchanging slightly panicked looks with Plagg, Adrien quietly breathed his transformation words. Plagg yelped as he vanished into the ring, the green light of power rippling over Adrien giving him a boost of confidence his civilian self never seemed to feel. 

The baby in his arms continued to fuss. Rocking didn’t work, neither did the soft singing of a lullaby, nor patting her on the back. Maybe she needed food? He looked at sleeping Marinette again, knowing she needed to rest. If he could somehow keep Emma quiet for a little longer. 

It was his nose that led him to a startling and awkward realization first - the subtle smell of urine wafting from the bundle. His heart stuttered. A diaper change? On something so small and so fragile? Could he do this? 

For the briefest of moments, he considered waking up Marinette for help or buzzing the nurse. But no. This was his first test of fatherhood. Taking care of the needs of his child. He could do this. Carefully, he laid her down on the little table in the room, pulling back the blanket to unwrap her from her swaddle before grabbing an incredibly tiny diaper. 

\-------------------

Marinette wasn’t quite sure if she was awake or dreaming as she opened her eyes to find Chat Noir leaning over a changing table, his tongue sticking out just a little with concentration as he gently snapped up the front of the baby’s soft pajamas. 

“There we go, my sweet little kitten. We did it. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he purred quietly, pulling the knitted blanket around her again just as the nurse had shown them how. “I promise I’ll get better at this. I don’t know how to be a good papa but I’m going to try.” His movements were slow as he scooped her up, very intentionally cradling the baby’s head as he pulled her close to him. 

He turned then, glancing towards her and freezing to find her awake. 

“Marinette? Oh no. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sor-” 

She cut him off with a smile. 

“You are a great papa, kitty.” He practically glowed at her words. “Can you bring our daughter here?” He was at her side in an instant, placing the baby into the crook of her arm. Reaching up with the other hand, she ruffled his hair around his cat ears. 

“As much as I know being Chat is your way of feeling confident, I think we need Adrien back before the nurses show up.” He flushed in embarrassment before releasing his transformation. Plagg looked annoyed for the briefest of moments before grabbing the cheese waved in his direction. 

Marinette’s fingers dropped to weave together with his own.

“Now,” Marinette murmured, looking down at the wide grey-blue eyes that stared back at her with untold wisdom. “I think our daughter needs to hear the story of how her mama and papa met.” 


	26. Toe Beans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyra: More Mari & CatDad that no one really asked for but are getting anyway. Part 2 of 3. _
> 
> _Ep: I did! You just couldn’t hear me yelling from outside your window._
> 
> _MR: But it is so stinking cute!!! (oh, wait… that was yesterday’s dirty diaper that was stinking.) Still absolutely adorable, though!_

“Don’t transform!” Marinette’s voice called from their bedroom as he crawled through the window back into their apartment. Chat froze, straining his cat ears to hear if everything was ok. Giggles and whispered words from their bedroom was all he could make out - at least relieving him of the worry that had instantly seized him. 

His evening runs had become part of his daily routine - a way to keep fit and give the people of Paris some sense of assurance that they remained protected by their superhero team, even if they didn’t see Ladybug much anymore. Ladybug was far too busy with her new mission - motherhood. 

Chat dropped his feet onto the floor, carefully sliding the window closed behind him as the bedroom door clicked open. 

“Ok, let’s show Papa,” Marinette’s soft voice cooed. Chat turned to find his wife in the hallway, hair tied hastily into a messy bun at the top of her head, dressed in a set of disheveled pajamas with their dark-haired daughter in her arms. At eleven months old, Emma was a joy - smiles and laughter and a dangerous twinkle of mischievousness in her eye. Marinette grinned at him before turning her back to fiddle with something, give their daughter a few words of encouragement, and then plopped the little one on the ground. 

Emma moved like lightning, knees and arms moving in perfected rhythm as she crawled at top speed to his direction. A set of tiny bottom teeth peered out at the wide grin between the softly uttered mumbles of “Papa” chanted out with each movement. Chat’s heart melted for the millionth time watching her. How did he end up with this amazing gift? Squatting to get lower to her, he put his arms out to scoop her up just as she reached him. 

“Hello, my little kitten,” he whispered, laughing a little as she grabbed his bell. His eyes caught sight of a small fabric golden bell of her own dangling from the front of her black pajamas. A moment of closer examination had him realizing that Emma wore new jammies - an exact replica of his own suit, with seams sewn right where his own lay, and the zipper pull covered carefully with the fabric bell. A tail dangled from the back and, when he pulled the hoodie up over her hair, little black cat ears poked out the top as Emma laughed. 

But the cutest part of the whole thing were the green outlined cat paws added to the bottoms of her feet. Little kitty toe beans. He squeezed her close, honoured beyond anything that Marinette had spent so much time and effort to make such an outfit. 

“Why, Emma, I do believe your maman has made you a mini-me!” 

Emma clapped happily before her fingers reached for his bell again. Chat’s eyes drifted to his wife, who remained in the hallway with a half-smile on her face watching them. 

“Thank you,” he said, voice caught with emotion. It never failed to catch him off-guard when she did something to show him exactly how much he meant to her, how much CHAT meant to her. It only took a few wide steps to close the space between them - planting a kiss on her lips for a moment before scooping her up in his other arm. 

Marinette yelped, clutching at his neck while he spun them both around. Emma laughed wildly, throwing her head back with that sparkle in her eyes while Marinette scolded him and squealed. 

“Put me down!” Her hand swatted his shoulder until he finally smirked and dropped her gently back to the ground. “I’m guessing you like it then?” 

Tossing his little mini kitten into the air and loving every screech she made as she flew. 

“It’s purr-fect, just purr-fect.” 

Marinette beamed and, Chat - well, he stayed in his black cat suit much longer than he had in years, eventually needing to placate an annoyed kwami with a large amount of cheese when he finally transformed back. 


	27. Kitty Noir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lyra: You know, it’s amazing how quickly kids can do the things we never would expect them to do. Have I told you guys about my kids and the flour? Oy._
> 
> _MR: You have! This is why I keep my children chained up. Far less chance for mischief._
> 
> _Ep: (covered in flour, spluttering) I thought it was a story... so much for letting them help in the kitchen._

Adrien’s ring was practically a permanent addition to his finger. He rarely, if ever, removed it - the value of it far too precious. So, when he heard Emma’s sweet toddler voice crying out, “Pwagg. Cwah’s out!” far too early on a weekend morning, he just smiled to himself from the comfort of his bed. 

It was the sound of Plagg practically screaming his name that jolted him to consciousness and flung him out of bed in panic, the realization that somehow, some way his ring was no longer on his finger. Emma stood in the hallway, her arm outstretched in far too familiar a stance. His ring - his Miraculous ring - dangled from a tiny finger clenched into a fist in front of her. A terrifying flash of green left his heart on the floor, washing over his daughter to transform her into a shockingly similar version of himself. 

Black from head to toe, ears popping out of her tousled dark hair and a mask sliding into place around the grey of her eyes, tail shooting out her back. It was quick - so fast that he almost missed it as she stood there grinning with pure mischief. Instantly, Adrien realized something terrible - Plagg and Emma together would be the end of the world. 

Kneeling beside his daughter, Adrien tried not to let the panic he felt on the inside show. Placing a soft hand on her shoulder, he smiled. “Hey, Kitten. I need you to say ‘Claws in,’ please, ok?” 

In a look so much like the steel determination of her mother, Emma’s eyes hardened and chin tilted upwards with complete defiance. 

“No. Me Kitty Noir!” And she ran. Superpowers with an already overactive toddler made for a dangerous combination - the agility the suit afforded making her laugh with excitement as she discovered her new abilities to tumble and leap around the room. Adrien tried - hands and feet scrambling over the couch and the tables - to catch her, a sudden understanding of how every akumatized person must have felt as they chased himself and Ladybug across Paris. 

Beneath her exuberant actions, Kitty Noir knocked over the couch, the sounds of furniture crashing and breaking making him wince. 

“What the heck is going on out h-” Marinette slid into the hallway, her voice trailing off as she instantly pieced together the sight of their daughter running rampant as a superhero. “Emma!” 

The tiny kitten version of himself skidded to a halt at the sudden and stern use of her name, freezing as her wide eyes turned to look at her maman. Adrien seized the opportunity, jumping across the room to grab her around the waist. Kitty Noir screeched, laughing as Adrien pulled her into a hug, little feet kicking to be free. 

“Now, Kitty Noir, give me your Miraculous~” he sang, tugging at the ring she held in her fist. 

She started to thrash, screaming out “no, no, no!” in rapid succession. 

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming, the sharp glint in her eyes the only warning he had before she yelled “Catacwysm!” and her fist became a bubbly shock of destruction. Instantly dropping his hand from hers and grabbing her wrist to keep the power from touching either of them, he cussed loudly before he yelled for Marinette. 

“I’m on it!” her voice shouted from somewhere behind him - a blur of unknown colours flashing into view and onto Emma’s hand to turn to dust. Emma burst into hysterical tears. Instant relief filled him, nearly crushing her to his chest as he collapsed to the ground with her in his arms. 

“Oh, my little kitten,” he murmured, rocking her slightly when Marinette’s arms encircled them both. 

“I think, kitty, that it’s time to stop with the bedtime stories about Chat Noir from the first person point of view,” she offered, pulling Emma from his arms to cuddle her close. 

“I think you are right, princess.” 

When the final beep of the transformation released, Emma lay sleeping in her mother’s arms, the excitement and action of the day having worn her tiny body out. Plagg looked thoroughly distraught. Enough so that he instantly agreed to remain hidden from her from now on. 

Adrien pulled the ring onto his finger, wiggling it slightly as it returned to its proper home, pressing a kiss to the forehead of his sleeping daughter. 

“She’s a handful,” Marinette muttered. He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed his wife, too. 

“Just like her maman.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Consider the story from Do Not Disturb - Chapter 16 - as a future story from this one.)


	28. Lights Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Chat may have fought hundreds of akumas, but when it comes to a cranky string of holiday lights, he finds he’s met his match. On his journey to rectify the situation, though, he discovers a little something about the true spirit of the season._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ep: Christmas in May, you say? Absolutely! Especially when it means I can sneak in another story featuring my_ Roommates _duo. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go turn up_ Ella Wishes You A Swinging Christmas _._
> 
> _Lyra: Sorry, I’m busy singing “I’ll Be Home For Christmas, There’s No Where Else I’m Allowed to Be~”_
> 
> _MR: Christmas? I’m not ready!!!! I’ve barely started shopping!!!!_

“We really need a new tree,” I mewled.

“There’s nothing wrong with this one,” Marinette said from across the room. 

“But I can’t find it! Wouldn’t it just be easier--”

“No,” she said firmly as she pulled a fresh batch of cookies from the oven and placed the baking sheet on the granite countertop. “Be patient, take a deep breath, and start again.”

Blowing away a bang that had fallen in front of a masked eye, I debated the wisdom of arguing the point. After all, _she_ wasn’t the one up to her feline ears trying to wrestle our Christmas Tree into holiday shape. My original plan had been to surprise her with something from a catalog I’d found, one that came pre-lit and pre-decorated; I figured for our first holiday together, it would be worth the expense. Marinette had actually surprised me - kind of - that evening; as I vaulted through my bedroom balcony doorway and rolled into the main part of the apartment I shared with her, this dreadful pile of imitation greenery had been waiting for me atop our coffee table.

Sighing dramatically, I looked over my shoulder at Marinette. “How long has this been in the family again?” I asked. 

“I have no idea,” she said as she began to slide the cookies off the baking sheet and onto a wire rack for cooling. “All I know is, my grand-mère dropped it off with my mother this morning, and I picked it up this afternoon. Apparently it was the tree she had with grand-père the year they got married.”

I pulled back a bit, though my arms remained hidden within the section I’d been struggling with. “Princess, this tree is well past its prime--”

“Chat,” Marinette said, and without turning I knew she was waving her spatula at me. “We are going to use this tree.”

“Mari, be reasonable! Half of these boughs don’t even line up correctly. And these lights--”

“ _Chat_ ,” she said again, and this time I heard the tone that told me I was skating on thin ice. “Maybe you should take a break. Why don’t you do a lap around the city or something? Clear your head. And then try again when you get back.”

Slightly annoyed with her suggestion, my feline ears flattened as I withdrew my paws and stood. “Fine,” I said tightly. “I’ll be back in thirty.”

“See you then,” she smiled, melting my heart and making it hard to stay angry. 

Nonetheless, with as much ire as I could muster, I bounded away through my room and out the slider to my balcony; leaping over the railing, I grabbed my baton in a fluid movement and helicoptered my way to the first rooftop, where I landed easily and began to jog along the spine. In truth, I wasn’t really upset - well, not at Marinette, at least; it had been a long day for me at House of Gabriel, and working on a decades-old fake Christmas tree hadn’t been on my list for the evening. Wine? Yes. Trying to figure out how to put together an ancient piece of… something… without instructions? Not so much.

Snow was gently falling as it had been on and off for the last few days, muting the normal sounds of the city. It felt peaceful and calm, much as the old carol would remind us; landing on a peaked rooftop, I perched for a bit just to take in the early evening scene beneath me. With ten days to go before the holiday itself, Parisians were bustling about the shops below, picking out last minute gifts for loved ones and acquaintances. I’d been making that fruitless run for days now myself, trying to find just the right gift for my Princess, something that could express just how much her leap of faith meant to this once lonely kitty. Shaking my head to throw off the accumulating snow from my mane, I sighed again, wondering how it was even remotely possible to feel anything but love for that woman who had come into my life so unexpectedly years ago.

Movement caught my feline eye, and I turned my masked visage toward a lit window in an apartment across the street. A young mother was on tip-toes, putting the finishing touch of a star atop her well-formed tree; a child of perhaps ten stood below her, holding the box where she’d retrieved the bangle. Mission accomplished, she stepped back and turned to say something to the child; smiling, he put the box on the floor and disappeared from view. A moment later, the tree burst into life, filled to the brim with brilliant white speckles that reflected off of the ornaments that were tastefully - maybe even artfully - arranged.

I was reminded for a moment of doing the same activity with _my_ mother, in the years before she disappeared. It had been a fun experience, a beloved chance for me to spend time with her as we prepared for the jolly old elf’s once-a-year appearance. Nathalie had tried to recreate that experience for me the first few years after Mother disappeared, but it had become a cold and austere activity. One intended to keep up appearances, and nothing more.

The tree meant something to Marinette; I’d known that from the moment I’d seen her face when I’d arrived that evening. Much like me, she, too, had Christmas memories and traditions, and as I watched the family in front of me start to work hanging stockings, I realized my Princess had wanted to share that with me, too. Mari had to have seen the tree at her grand-mère’s place for years, and the very thought of that threadbare imitation conifer getting a second chance with a new generation suddenly appealed to me. Much like me, it had found a new family and now desperately wanted to be a part of it.

But those lights… they were nearly antiques, to be honest. The string that had been with the materials didn’t turn on - at all - and nearly an hour of trying to track down which bulb was the issue had driven me to distraction, despite my legendary feline-enhanced patience. My masked eyes narrowed as they took in the brightly lit specimen across the street, and for a long moment, I harbored dark thoughts of stealing the festive tableau a-la the Grinch.

Not my finest moment as a superhero, for sure.

Turning away, I started a slow jog back to the apartment but didn’t get very far; pausing at the edge of the roof I was on, I realized I was just a few blocks from a small family run pharmacy I’d come across during an akuma attack back in July. It had a little of everything, and a small seasonal aisle that had amazing wonders for particular points of the year. Adrien Agreste had become a regular customer in the months since moving in with Marinette, picking up a card here or a small box of her favorite chocolates there. With luck, they might have exactly what I needed.

Grabbing the metallic downspout I was next to, I swung around and slid down to the street level, landing in a cat crouch just outside the festively lit window of the shop. Standing slowly, I looked past the reflection of a feline superhero to see a magnificent tree fully decked out, with a small train running circles around the base. Boxes of various sizes, wrapped in colorful foil paper, were shoved beneath the lowest boughs and looked so homey I suddenly felt nostalgic. Caught in my daydream, I didn’t catch the fact that the owner of the shop was standing next to me, slack jawed.

“Chat Noir?” she asked.

I turned, realizing my plan to duck into the alley and transform was now out of the question. “What a magnificent display,” I said appreciatively. “How long did it take for you to create it?”

“Thank you,” she laughed. “Two days, actually. It would take less if my grandkids didn’t insist on helping.”

Smiling, I nodded. “Cats can be supremely unhelpful, too,” I sighed. “Just ask my girlfriend. I’m always in the way.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” was the kind response.

“Look, do you sell the lights you have in that tree?”

“You need… Christmas lights?” she asked, eyes widening. “Is there some sort of akuma attack?”

“No,” I said, smiling to tamp down her panic. “Believe it or not, I am decorating my secret hideaway. And I need another strip of lights to finish the job.”

“You have a secret hideaway?” she repeated.

_I figured the girlfriend remark would resonate more,_ I thought, before answering. “Maybe, but you can’t tell anyone you know about it.”

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “We do sell those lights, in white or multiple colors. I think we only have the one-hundred count lights left in stock though.”

“Clawesome,” I said as I slid open my baton’s secret compartment, verifying I had stashed a small wad of euros for just such an emergency. “I’ll take the white, I think...”

Not long after, I was back in the apartment, carefully threading my newly obtained LED lights into the boughs of the tree. I’d been in luck, for when I’d returned, Marinette had already disappeared into her suite, and from the occasional splashes my feline ears could pick up, she was relaxing in her garden tub. By the time she reappeared in the main space, clad in her Chat Noir pajamas, I was curled up on the table, mesmerized by my handiwork.

She padded over to me and gasped. “Chat! My… holy… that’s stunning,” she breathed as she slid onto the glass top beside me.

“Thank you,” I sighed contentedly, tail playfully sneaking to her waist. “The tree just needed a little love,” I added as I turned up to look at her. “I obliged, and it blossomed. Just like I did when you gave your love to me.”

Marinette’s eyes were glistening in the low light from the tree. “Oh, my precious kitty… you didn’t need my help.”

“Yes I did,” I replied honestly as I adjusted my position to hug her. “More than you can ever know.”

She leaned down to me and gave me a long, sensual kiss. “I have a feline this is going to be the best Christmas ever, I think,” Marinette said as she pulled back with a smile.

I found no reason to disagree and simply pulled her back for a second helping of those divinely soft lips.


	29. Pajamas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sometimes we all need a break._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ep: No kidding. I think I’m gonna take the summer off from work. Now, how to tell my boss..._
> 
> _Lyra: I LIVE for my jammies._
> 
> _MR: Sleep? What is sleep? I laugh in the face of exhaustion! *yawns*_

_Today's story is from our friend DearestMrIcarus._

* * *

The belted tail swished from the teen girl's terrance in a feline manner. What would've been a silly sight in the daylight was mysterious and exotic in the Parisian darkness.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Chat asked softly.

Marinette grinned at the perched silhouette. He'd grown a lot in the past 3 years. She still recalled their first year of fighting akumas. Chat had always been ready to fight, all fists and no brain, but in the last year things had changed. 

He was livelier, but also more thoughtful. He showed tact, elegance, and professionalism in his heroics. He'd even dropped the stupid puns. He'd become the perfect partner.

_"He looks pretty cute in the moonlight," Marinette thought,_ before snapping back into reality. She forced herself to think of Adrien, who, if she was being honest, was only a hair more crushworthy than her feline partner. Chat was still staring at her, waiting for a response, she realized.

"Oh, sorry. I was thinking about something," she muttered, then guessed," but I bet you want to tell me being a hero is the best."

"Wrong," he answered wistfully.

"Well, it might not be what you wanted to tell me, but it's still true," she countered.

He shook his head. "No, unfortunately it isn't. That's my secret. I'm tired. I'm so tired."

As if on cue, he slipped off the perch and landed on his back, staring up at the sky.

"Chat, are you ok?" She asked, wincing at the fall.

"My body aches, I'm always bored, and the one retreat I had I turned into the same Hell that the rest of my life is. I have to be perfect, even if I'm wearing a mask. And I'm just done. I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired."

Marinette put a hand on her friend, and spoke soothingly.

"There must be good things, though, right? Like your future-girlfriend, Ladybug? Or probably the million friends in your personal life. How about all the cool perks of being a hero?"

Marinette's cheeks flushed pink at the phrase "future-girlfriend" as she tried to tell herself that it was just encouragement, and not baiting him.

Chat shook his head once more. "Nope. Ladybug is cool, but if we are going to be responsible heroes, it can't happen. All my friends like the person my dad molded me into. They like " _him",_ but not the real me. And the perks of being a hero? Well, unfortunately they come with the responsibility of being a hero, which basically makes it impossible to have fun."

In the darkness, Marinette's jaw dropped. Chat had sacrificed his one escape to become a hero. He had traded everything to be what he was supposed to,and carried on until he was burnt out.

"Just a second," she said, jumping up and disappearing down the trap door.

A moment later she appeared wearing a hero adorned pair of pajamas. In her arms was a matching set that she had made in hopes of giving to Adrien.

"I made these… they're for you," she lied, convinced that maybe she had been pursuing the wrong guy all along.

"What is this?" Chat asked, looking at all the caricatures embroidered into the fabric, feeling each one with his fingers.

"It's Majestia," he mumbled. "And Doorman. Sparrow too. Hey, there's Uncanny Valley."

Marinette heard his lips break into a smile as he continued. "And Ladybug! And… me?!"

"Yeah," Marinette confirmed. "You deserve it."

"Why?" He asked. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Well, you said you're tired. So I thought I'd let you know you have somewhere to rest. Somewhere to just be yourself. So throw on those pajamas, and let's unwind."


	30. Purrince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Marinette discovers that love can sneak up on you - especially when it comes in the form of a human-sized feline._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ep: This is what happens when you step away from the keyboard for_ FIVE MINUTES _and a certain wily black feline takes over. I’m known for my fluff, but I am never going to live this one down..._
> 
> _Lyra: … kind of like the time you tried on that Chipmunk Miraculous costume that MR sent? :D_
> 
> _MR: I’d forgotten about that… I’m STILL waiting for those blackmail, uh, I mean, beautiful pictures..._
> 
> * * *
> 
> _Today's story is by Chat Noir._

Marinette wondered.

There was no rhyme or reason to Chat’s appearances, despite her best efforts to squeeze them into a pattern. Unlike Adrien - whose life she had mapped down to the millisecond, truth be told - Chat remained frustratingly random. For a young woman who liked plans and order to all things, it was a frustration that needed to be reckoned with. And yet, she simply had no idea how to address it.

So she wondered. 

There were a few nights where she thought he had smelled fresh baked goods on the wind; she could never host him without sneaking him a few from the Bakery, and especially loved how his masked eyes would widen at the sight of the pastries when she presented her wares to him. But just when she thought _that_ was the key to the pattern, he infuriatingly appeared on a night when no baking was being done. And then another. And then a third.

So she wondered.

Then she thought it was because a series of akumas had been fairly close to the Bakery; more often than not, Hawkmoth seemed to have a penchant for attacking the park or nearby Dupont, so that _felt_ like a reasonable explanation. Marinette would find she had barely returned to her bedroom to drop her transformation on such occasions when the gentle rubbery thump on her rooftop patio would herald her partner’s arrival. But there, too, Chat threw her a curveball; seven nights straight she discovered him perched on her railing, tail twitching with anticipation at her arrival - with nary an akuma having been fought.

So she wondered.

Perhaps it had been an accidental reveal, then? Had Chat caught Ladybug on her way back to the Bakery? Marinette was well aware of how her partner felt with respect to her alter ego, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to begin to panic over the possible exposure of her identity. A test was in order, naturally, and for ten days she took the most random routes possible after departing an akuma attack; several times, she’d had to recharge Tikki enroute. Carefully she monitored for the possibility of a specific feline shadowing her, but he wasn’t there; and, naturally, didn’t appear at the Bakery at all during that period. And yet, a week _after_ her efforts were completed, he once again appeared mere moments after she herself had returned home. Her test was inconclusive at best, especially when she tried to tease out of him any indication that he knew more than he was letting on.

So she wondered.

He did seem to have a knack for appearing when she had run-ins with Lila and felt especially low; similarly, whenever she was having trouble with a particular school assignment, he seemed to magically turn up with a helpful bit of tutoring. Or, when she thought about it, generally _any_ time when she was feeling out of sorts, stressed or just generally frustrated with life and everything it entailed. Each time he’d be there with a gentle smile, a kind word, and, occasionally, a warm embrace that helped center her universe once again and chase off the worst of her doldrums. Sometimes, even, he would add the softest, sweetest kiss, too. 

And she wondered: when had that started? Naturally, she pondered further. 

Why _did_ she always find herself thinking about moments with Chat? And, come to think of it, how had Chat managed to supplant Adrien in her daydreams? For if she were being honest with herself - and she chastised herself any time she wasn’t - mental images of those cute feline ears, mischievous masked eyes and oh, that amazing smile he saved just for Marinette seemed nearly as omnipresent as the feline himself. Alya had even caught her doodling a certain black kitty on her tablet, prompting her best friend to give her grief over it for a full day.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that wily partner of hers had wrapped himself around her heart, and though she’d never seen it coming it felt as natural as breathing itself. Even though he had completely given himself over to her, it was a relationship of equals and respect; he would do anything for her, and she knew now that she would do the same. Somehow, deep down, her heart was aware this very same Chat was the one she had rejected as Ladybug. Marinette thanked the fates that her kitty had quietly pursued her instead.

One night, as she leaned up against the black-cladded chest of her gently purring boyfriend, stargazing atop the Bakery, she decided she wondered no longer - for every Purrincess deserves a Purrince.

And she had found hers.


	31. Time Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is definitely not for the faint of heart. Though it's not a bad ending… depending on the perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Ic: I wrote this! Why am I crying?_
> 
> _MR: YOU CAN’T BLAME ME FOR THIS ONE!!!!!_
> 
> _Lyra: MR, what have we done to sweet little Ic?_
> 
> _Ep: I’m not crying. Honest! (sniffs) We’re making spaghetti and I had to cut up the onions..._

Adrien's eyes flew open, his hand simultaneously sliding towards the alarm clock, before it could let out a beep.

6:00

Today was the day. The day he'd known would come. The day he'd waited for for 20 years. The day he would curse Marinette Dupain-Cheng's life. He would carve an unspeakable heartache into her very soul, but he would do it because he loved her with all of his being.

Carefully he pulled the covers off of his exposed muscular body, so as not to wake the other occupant of the bed. As he silently placed a single toe on the hardwood floor, a pair of warm arms wrapped around his waist.

"You can't leave," her drained raspy voice whispered.

"It's just for a bit. I'll see you soon," he responded, trying to find solace in the half truth of his statement.

Her arms locked more tightly around him, silently forbidding his bygone plan.

Warmly he placed his fingers over her interlocked hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

"Mari, you know I have to leave," he whispered into her ear, turning his body so that his chest was pressed against hers.

She tried to muster a rebuttal, but the soft rhythmic beating of his heart hypnotized her, pulling her into the beat.

It was funny, Adrien had been the joke of the school when they were kids. He was the only person who couldn't decipher the ravenette's feelings, even as she wore them on her sleeve. It seemed though that as time moved on, he eventually knew what she was thinking as soon as she knew. Even in that moment, Adrien knew that Marinette knew his plan.

"If I don't do this then everything disappears. The house, our brand, the memories we've had, and the kids, Mari. We lose everything if I don't go."

Her arms lingered around him, her heart still hesitant.

"Maybe you could attack the akuma directly, or we could send someone else in your place. We could at least wait a little bit longer," she pleaded with her husband.

He shook his head with peaceful solemnity. "Marinette, I've talked to Alix, she went over millions of possibilities. This is the only way. Besides, in a way it's already happened."

Tears streamed down her face, and Adrien pulled her close, letting the hot droplets splash across his bare chest. The silver beads of sorrow spilled across his pectorals, dancing across the carved ridges of his abs, causing them to glisten in the morning light.

As Marinette pulled back to look at the man she loved and the father of her 3 children she couldn't help but think that this was the most handsome he'd ever looked.

"Then love me one more time before you go," she hummed, caressing his chest and leaning into a warm kiss.

He pulled his wife close, letting her smooth legs slide across his waist. Gently he fell onto the bed, Marinette clutching him tightly.

Half an hour later, Adrien threw on a dark black shirt and some worn jeans, and walked out the door, begging his heart not to break as the distant sobs faded.

He glanced at his watch, bargaining precious time for himself.

"I can visit them," he finally muttered, before turning back to the hallway, opening the kids' bedroom door. He placed a kiss on each forehead, as groggy voices wished him a good morning.

A moment later he returned, quickly running down the stairs as he gasped, refusing to let the tears overwhelm him.

It took only minutes to navigate to Alix's home, where the door opened before he could knock.

"Come in, Adrien," she said compassionately.

The blond walked into his friend's home, smiling at the family portrait. 

"It never ceases to amaze me how all your kids have your eyes," he grinned.

She nodded, her reddish-pink hair slowly bobbing with her head.

"And I think they all got their dad's intelligence. Or lack thereof," she laughed, while Kim snorted in the kitchen.

Xuppu and Fluff carefully popped their heads over the corner then zoomed to see Adrien. Plagg escaped the pocket he was in, and let out a loud belch, signifying that he had just finished a rather large camembert breakfast.

"You know Adrien, you don't have to do this," Plagg suggested halfheartedly.

Adrien just laughed, and retrieved another piece of odious cheese from his other pocket.

"You ready?" Alix asked, now donned in Bunnix's costume.

Adrien nodded as Plagg downed the cheese, then called out that old phrase. "Plagg claws out one more time."

"Burrow!"

Suddenly the world danced with light and a moment later, Adrien found himself in his old school, Bunnix not far behind.

"I'll be here to pick Plagg up…and your body of course-- um you know what I mean, Chat. Good luck."

"Don't you know? Black cats are always lucky," Adrien shouted as he dashed off into the hallway.

"I am Failitron! I'll make sure all of you fail at existing!" An akuma sneered, blasting a row of lockers into dust with a pulse of light.

Marinette froze in place as the Akuma turned his beam towards her.

"Fail!" He shrieked as Chat threw himself in front of the beam, crumpling against the wall, a gaping hole cut cleanly through his nearly indestructible suit.

A much younger Chat appeared around the corner moments later, glancing at his aged gasping doppelganger.

"Hey, how about fighting this chat?" He called, drawing the foe away.

"Chat!" Marinette screamed, running to the old hero.

"Hey P-princess. It's been a while since I saw you looking this young. H-how are you?"

Marinette, who seemed unimpressed by the brash time traveling kitty, placed his head on her lap. "Where does it hurt?"

"Hey, Mari, it's ok. I'm not going to make it, but it was a sacrifice worth making," he coughed, feeling a sharp pain in his lungs.

"What could be worth this?" She cried, looking at the wretched mess in front of her.

"A f-future with you. The great-test fashion duo the world has ever seen. The only people to have summitted Ev-everest in less than four hours. Five years with a b-b-best friend, and another 15 with the best w-wife. Three beautiful children. A h-huh-house that makes Agreste Manor look like a sh-shack."

By now Marinette's pink capris were scarlet stained, not that she minded.

"Stay with me Chat," she whispered, as a million emotions burned within her.

Chat replied with a grin. "You know, s-some of the best memories I had w-with you? Getting m-married. O-our kids b-births. W-when I found out y-y-you gave me that birthday s-scarf," he choked.

"A...Adrien?" She asked, as her tears turned into heart-wrenching pain.

"I am, and always will be your Chat Noir, My Lady. Now d-don't cry. Y-you'll have another 20 years until I l-leave your life for good. I-I love y-y-you," he finished, placing one final kiss on her hand before fading away.

Moments later the young Chat zoomed into the hallway, followed shortly by Bunnix.

"Spots o--" Marinette began, desperately sobbing.

Bunnix put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. "He's not from here. It won't work like it usually does."

"What's going on?" He asked looking back and forth from Marinette to his body and then the time traveling heroine.

"Marinette really needs you, Chat," she cooed, as she picked her lost friend off of Marinette's lap and stepped away. Instantly the girl leapt off the floor and into his arms.

"Adrien," she cried holding him tightly. He jumped at the sound of his name, then instantly pulled his friend close.

"It's alright Princess, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A special thanks from all four of us to our dedicated followers - we truly enjoyed spending this month with you. Stay Miraculous!_


End file.
